


Composure

by bishounen_curious



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkwardness, Dating, Family, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Gender Identity, Hand Jobs, It's VERY complicated, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Relationship Advice, Relationship(s), Sexual Tension, Sexuality, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, Underage Drinking, trans akaashi is a cinnamon roll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 73,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishounen_curious/pseuds/bishounen_curious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't supposed to mean anything. Still, Akaashi finds himself in way over his head. And of course it's Bokuto's fault, it always is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Akaashi Doesn't Deserve This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did this happen i was watching tv and then twenty minutes later this was written????
> 
> it's probably because ever since seeing [this](http://voix7.tumblr.com/post/118715109536/i-have-been-thinking-about-trans-akaashi-all-week) i've been obsessed with trans akaashi.

He’s ovulating. There’s no doubt about it. 

He wouldn’t be soaking through his boxer briefs in the middle of the day otherwise.

When he reaches this point in his cycle, his body frankly just does what it wants. It makes Akaashi _want_. Everything and everyone. Hormones were sucky like that.

Every month it went pretty much the same way. He’d be sitting in class and warmth would creep into his belly, slow and dragging and drowsy. It’d be so overwhelming that it made his eyelids droop and his attentiveness decline to zero, like a horny zombie. His brain would fog up: he’d be half-asleep, half-consumed with half-baked fantasies of faceless people with their featureless heads buried between his legs, sucking every last bit of slick from his throbbing cunt. 

More often than not he has to get the notes from a classmate, because he’s just in class, sitting crosslegged, contracting his kegel muscles over and over and ever-so-slightly rocking his hips, grasping at metaphorical straws for the faintest bit of stimulation to keep him sane. His bottom lip always gets swollen when he’s ovulating because he spends so much time chewing on it to prevent his breath from turning into heavy pants and needy moans, to keep himself from looking like a freak in front of all his classmates.

Akashi hates it. He likes to think of himself as a composed guy, but when he gets like this, it takes every ounce of willpower to keep himself from melting into a blatantly-needy wreck.

This day it’s particularly trying.

Before practice starts, he’s in the clubroom, changing into athletic clothes, and he just wants to go home. He’s not one to miss practice, ever really, but the temptation to leave and slink pant-less back into his bed to diddle his clit for the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound terrible.

But he knows he can’t just ditch. He’s their setter, and without him, practice becomes almost moot. 

Akaashi thinks of himself as a composed guy, so he composes himself and forces his lust-leaden limbs into his sports binder and then pulls his white tee over his messy black hair. 

But apparently he’s not composed enough because there’s a finger gingerly tapping his shoulder.

The contact is so minimal, but it makes his nerves spike like a million iron maces inside his body and his pulse stutter like the start of cardiac arrest. Akaashi is spinning on his socked feet and almost bumps heads with the captain.

Bokuto’s large eyes are brimming with concern. His mouth isn’t twisted in its usual grin, but a cautious uncertain line. Akaashi’s own mouth pulls into the same insteady line, and he challenges back, in a tone that was anything but collected, “ _What?_ ”

“Dude, are you okay?”

“What?” 

“You’ve been acting, I dunno, weird all day.” Bokuto’s shrugging his shoulders, and the setter knows that he feels guilty for being confrontational but also at the same time not because he’s worried. “You were looking more miserable than usual when I passed you in the halls earlier, and right now… you just seem off.”

People could say what they wanted about Bokuto, but that boy was damn perceptive. That’s what made him a good captain: he had a keen eye for the team dynamic. The chemistry of each player, when it came to Bokuto, seemed to be written on a chart on their bodies, and he always knew what to do to say to fix a chemical imbalance. 

Akaashi stared at him, eyebrows quirked defensively, calculating his next move. Bokuto was his best friend, and he was usually honest with him. It was easy to be, because the captain was so candid himself. 

As he contemplated, the black-haired boy sat down, and began to pull on his sneakers. While he tied up his laces, he decided the best course of action was to be honest. “I’m fine. I’ve just been really horny all day.”

As he expected, Bokuto just nodded his head with a sound of agreement. He understood completely, and his empathy and sympathy made Akaashi feel just a bit less stressed. 

At some point the captain had leaned his back against the neighbor locker to Akaashi’s, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. The club room had gradually drained itself of the rest of the team, and it was just the two of them now, quiet.

Double-knotting his laces to be sure, Akaashi stood up and fetched the rest of his things he’d need for practice from his locker. He was standing next to Bokuto, their bodies so close. The heat radiating off of the captain was making his stomach knot, his stress returning full force in the form of unsteady fingers that itched to touch and take, but Akaashi just ignored it, and slammed his locker shut with more force than necessary.

“Ready to go?” The setter offered, wanting to move on and find a distraction in the gym.

Bokuto was just gazing emptily towards the wall of lockers in front of him, and didn’t respond right away. Akaashi cocked his head to the side, about to snap his fingers and break the other out of his reverie when Bokuto beat him to the punch and spoke first.

“Akaashi.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t like seein’ ya miserable.”

“Thanks?”

“I was just, thinking,” Bokuto, Akaashi could see, was now purposelessly avoiding making eye contact, “and you could totally say _no_ , dude, but, I was just thinking that, y’know, if you wanted some help…”

“Spit it out.”

“I just want to help a bro out.” Bokuto shrugged, his bravado palpable in the stuffy air. “If a bro needs to get off, then its his bro’s responsibility to help him out.”

Akaashi likes to think of himself as a composed guy, but right now, that just wasn’t possible. 

There were no words he could formulate, no quips or logic that could save him. He just gaped back, dumb and dead-looking, and Bokuto snickered.

“You’re an idiot.” Akaashi finally snapped out.

“C’mon! We’ll make it quick. No strings attached. Just a friendly orgasm from me to you.”

“Bokuto, do you hear yourself-“

The captain waved his hands defensively. “Hey! If going down on you will make you more alert during practice, then I’m game.”

Those words made Akaashi press his thighs together and a harsh throb contract inside him. The immediate shock from the situation had melted into mild acceptance, and then started to burn into mounting eagerness. Akaashi knew Bokuto could see that emotional shift playing out on his face, but he didn’t care. Not right now, anyway.

“You,” the setter started, words slow, “are volunteering to eat me out.” 

“If that’s what you need right now, why not?”

Akaashi had started dripping into his boxer briefs with new slick. All of his veins and capillaries were thrumming with raw heat, and his brain was calling him an idiot. This was far from a level-headed decision, but he didn’t have the luxury of using logic when his hormones were eating him alive.

Akaashi licked his lips. “How long will this take?”

“Five minutes max.”

“That’s all you have, then.” 

And with that, Akaashi removed his shorts and underwear in one simultaneous, swift motion and then plopped down onto the edge of the changing bench, thighs spread open with his socks and sneakers still on his feet.

Bokuto was cackling as he positioned himself down in front of the setter. “What if someone walks in, ya eager beaver?”

“Stop talking and get to work before I change my mind.”

“Baby, I love it when you talk dirty.” Akaashi glared down at the captain, who was sporting a shit-eating grin. But when Bokuto leaned forward and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his swollen clit he couldn’t find the energy to stay annoyed.

Or breathe.

Bokuto had a loud mouth that was always blabbering on about this and that. But right now, it was eerily quiet. He was preoccupied with kissing the supple flesh of Akaashi’s inner thighs as his palm dragged up and down and circling his moist folds. He wasn’t applying quite the right pressure in all the places that he could have been, but Akaashi wasn’t picky, because anything at all had already subdued him into a panting mess. Bokuto’s hand was rubbing him, and he was already so slick and dripping, lewd squelches sounding with every ministration. His toes curled in his shoes.

Then, Bokuto, that idiot, brought his messy hand to his mouth and started tasting the stickiness. Akaashi hissed, sexual frustration and mild arousal at the action disguised as annoyance, “Don’t waste time.”

And Bokuto listened to him, his tongue licking along the entire length of his slit once, then twice, then more and _more_ and Akaashi was shivering and trying not to make a sound. His lip suffered for his prided silence. 

His body welcomed the pleasure, melted into it, keened forward for more. And Bokuto just kept giving him more. For someone so confident he wasn’t doing as fantastically as Akaashi expected, but he was making up for skill with enthusiasm. 

He was sucking at his cunt, nosing his clit and the curve of his labia, and just touching everywhere on his belly and thighs that he could. There wasn’t quite a rhythm or a method, it was all random spurts of energy and not-quite-thought-through-tactics, so much like Bokuto’s personality, and that was okay. 

Akaashi’s hands wormed their way into Bokuto’s ridiculous hair, and they were pulling the strands with more force than necessary. It was in part to spite him, part because he needed to grip onto something because it felt good.

His hips kept lurching and grinding forward, needing that friction and suction and holding onto it when he got it like a lifeline. The back of his neck and forehead were damp with sweat, and he was just perspiring more with every movement, every lick, every suck. Bokuto was humming, enjoying himself clearly, and that quelled an anxiety in Akaashi’s stomach that he hadn’t been conscious he had been feeling.

Akaashi was building to his peak quickly, and he was gripping Bokuto’s hair with more and more desperation. His body was rolling into Bokuto’s mouth, deliberate and searching and purposeful. He needed more, and he knew Bokuto would do it if he just asked. But it was still hard to talk, because he didn’t want his best friend to hear him whimper while he was eating him out.

“Can,” Akaashi wheezed, “put your fingers in me.”

The penetration of two fingers followed immediately, and there was no way that Akaashi could stifle the satisfied moan that tore from his mouth. _Yes_ , he was getting there. The whole day’s frustration was tightening into a dense ball in his stomach, convulsing in his thighs, making every part of him go taut with the tension that had been begging to get released all day.

Bokuto’s tongue was laving hurried circles around his clit because he probably could feel how close he was. He then was twisting his fingers inside of Akaashi and thrusting them in a _fucking incredible_ angle and the setter then and there started to quiver everywhere and couldn’t stop and he was nashing his teeth to keep himself from screaming and then he was coming undone against the captain’s smirking mouth, all viscously wet and hot and one-hundred percent positive that he ripped a bit of hair out of the captain’s scalp.

Akaashi took a moment to catch his breath. His thighs were still twitching, and Bokuto continued licking him unsurely, and even though it was too much sensation Akaashi didn’t want it to stop. Small broken whispers left his mouth with every overstimulated pulse that went through him, and after a few more, he tugged Bokuto’s head away from the sticky disaster of his cunt and frowned down at the grinning idiot below.

“That was definitely more than five minutes.” He deadpanned, trying to make Bokuto’s brain forget how he sounded when he came.

“Do you feel better?”

“Yeah…”

“Then get off your complainy butt and get to practice~” Bokuto singsonged, and flicked Akaashi’s thigh. The other did his best not to throttle the captain as he slipped his clothes back on and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up. Before he left, he turned around and let himself smile. 

“Thanks for that.” And, as an afterthought, because contrary to popular belief he _did_ care about the captain. “Are you hard? Do you want me to-“

“Nah, I’m good. We don’t have much time until someone comes to find us, anyway.” Bokuto was rolling his eyes dramatically, looking so mockingly scandalized, and the gleaming stickiness around his mouth and chin combined with his ridiculous expression made Akaashi genuinely laugh.

“Y’know,” the captain continued, an innocent look creeping up on his grin, “I’m good now, but if I ever am in the same boat some other time…”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll give you a subpar handjob or something.”

“Akaashi, _you suck_.”

“What are bros for, after all?”

Akaashi had to dodge the sneaker that was thrown at his head, and he did so with a huge, not composed whatsoever, smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _bro_


	2. Akaashi Really Doesn't Deserve This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg i got so much love for the original piece both on tumblr and here and i was like, you know what why not do another one. because you know, don’t work on your other au, just write more plotless porn. maybe make a multi-chaptered story out of it. y’know.

Saturday nights in were pretty nice, Akaashi decided awhile ago.

Sure, hanging out with the rest of the team was fun. But, Akaashi had noticed lately that he was always surrounded by people: whether at school or anything volleyball related. It was getting harder and harder to find some time for himself, so these rare nights where nothing was going on were kinda awesome.

Immediately after dinner, he had slipped on his favorite lounge pants (the navy ones with the white stripes that his mom got him for his birthday two years ago). And of course, best of all, he hadn’t had a reason to wear a binder. So, _fuck that_. He just had let himself get swallowed up in a loose, oversized t-shirt.

Tonight, he was just gonna revert back into his middle school, night-owl self. Just chill in his bed, cocooned by his blanket, surfing the web with his laptop and headphones. Do absolutely nothing of any value until the wee hours of the morning. 

Free time was awesome.

But things always went somewhat wrong in his life. Akaashi should have known he wasn’t lucky enough to have everything go completely his way.

It was barely nine o’clock when his phone lit up next to him in bed, so he picked it up to read the text. It was from Bokuto. 

Of course it was.

>> _wassup_

Akaashi frowned. There were so many ways this conversation could go, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of them. Most likely, this text was the prelude to a request to get Akaashi to pick up the captain’s drunk ass from a random party. Bokuto liked going out, and he was known to call up the setter whenever he needed a ride home.

Akaashi was already in his pajamas. He didn’t want to leave his bed for this.

But he had his read receipts on (why the hell didn’t he change that yet?) and Bokuto knew he opened the message. He had to respond, because Akaashi was a jerk but not that much of one, so he thumbed out a quick reply:

>> _i’m not driving you home, ask someone else_

>> _wow someone’s in a bad mood. :( and that’s not what i wanted to ask you._

Why didn’t he just ask outright what he wanted? Akaashi wasn’t a fan of these games. If anything, they just made him annoyed. If people just got to the point sooner, there would be so many less problems in the world.

>> _so what do you want?_

>> _remember the other day. before practice_

>> _you gotta be more specific, we had a lot of practice this week_

Akaashi’s mouth drew into a line when his phone started ringing. Bokuto was calling him. Of course. Rolling his eyes he paused his music, and relocated his headphones around his neck. He answered his phone and put it on speaker. 

Bokuto seemed to have already started babbling before Akaashi answered the call and his voice was lilting in something similar to a whine. “…okay, okay, I know maybe I’m not the best at oral, I’ve only done it once before, but the fact that you don’t even _remember_ it really hurts me, bro.”

Okay, no more speaker. Akaashi turned it off, and put the phone to his ear. And his face definitely wasn’t turning pink. Not at all. “Calm down.”

“Akaashi, c’mon, I’ve got feelings -“

“Shut up for two seconds.” He was running his hand up his face, trying to keep himself from lashing out. “I didn’t _forget_ about it, I just didn’t know you were specifically referencing it. And you were fine, don’t get so self-conscious.”

“Dude, really?”

“I came, didn’t I?” This was not the conversation he wanted to be having in his free time.

All he heard was a laugh from the other line. 

He definitely didn’t want to be having this conversation.

“I’m gonna hang up now.” Akaashi deadpanned.

“Don’t!” He couldn’t see him, but the setter knew the captain was covering his mouth, trying to stifle his snickers. “I called you for a reason, bro.”

“Which has yet to be mentioned.”

“Oh my god, Akaashi, literally _chill_.”

“I _was_ until you called me.”

An exasperated noise came through the line, just a bit staticy. “You’ve successfully killed my boner.”

Um.

Akaashi needed a second before he could respond. He had been wrong: this was definitely not where he thought this conversation was headed. “…why did you have one in the first place?”

This time, Bokuto took a moment before he answered. “Because I was thinking about when I ate you out.”

Was his room a bit warm? Akaashi took the blanket off of him and chucked it towards the end of his bed. “Why?”

“Because it’s the hottest memory I have to jack off to. Duh.”

“Oh my god.” Akaashi rubbed at cheek, trying to keep himself from turning even redder than he already was. Not that it mattered. This was a phone call. It was more of a pride thing, really.

“And, afterwards… the what was it, _sub-par handjob_ you promised?” He could practically hear the smirk on the captain’s mouth. He wanted to punch him. “Yeah, I was thinking about that.”

“I’m not coming over to your house, if this is what this is about.”

“No, no! I just, I don’t know, wanted to talk to you while I got off. I mean, if that’s _okay_.”

Akaashi swallowed, and looked around his very empty room for signs of his family. Was he dumb? Of course they weren’t here. They were downstairs, watching tv or something. In their own little worlds, having better things to do than spy on their son. But… his door was open, and maybe they could hear him on the phone…

Dammit.

“Hold on.” Akaashi mumbled into his phone, and got up to shut his door, quietly, then plopped back onto his bed. He closed his laptop and moved everything off his bed, so he got comfortable, giving himself room for whatever the hell was about to happen. “Sorry, yeah, that’s okay.”

“Your parents are home?” It was weird how perceptive Bokuto was with these things.

“I closed my door, it’s fine.”

“Oh~, plan on making some noise?”

“I’m gonna hang up.” Akaashi threatened.

“We both know you’re not going to.”

Ugh. He was right. Especially because his hand was unconsciously stroking low on his belly, already. Fuck, how could hormones make him such a mess? Minutes ago, he was fine. How did the situation change so quickly? But better yet, how the hell did Bokuto know just the right things to say to change everything? How did he know how to make Akaashi crumble like this?

He didn’t know if he was more angry at the captain or himself.

“So,” Akaashi started, hand rubbing with more pressure into his body, getting to those tight lower abdominal muscles that actually were a little tight from volleyball, and Akaashi ignored how good it felt because he had other things (unfortunately) on his mind, “the handjob… how was it?”

“Sub-par, obviously,” Bokuto snarked.

“No one jerks off to bad fantasies, idiot. Tell me what I was doing.”

Bokuto was snickering now, but he continued, “Well, you started touching me through my pants. We were in a cleaning supplies closet at school.”

“Why the _fuck_ were we there?”

“Don’t judge me, dude.”

“Whatever, so I was doing that.” Akaashi tried to visualize the scene, and he had to admit, as dumb as it was, he started to feel some heat pool into his tummy. His hand traveled all over his hips, dragging more pressure, and his eyes fluttered because he was getting way into this way too quickly.

“And,” Bokuto went on, and Akaashi had a feeling the captain knew exactly what this was doing to him, “you were being rude, as usual, and insulting me, kissing my neck at the same time.”

“That’s,” Akaashi mused, his voice definitely not breaking, “pretty realistic.”

“Realistic and sub-par.”

“You’re so annoying.” Akaashi got bored of his hips and lowered his hand so he could press into his clit through his clothes.

“But you’re still getting off to this.”

“I’m sure you have your hand down your pants too, don’t act all high and mighty.” 

“I mean,” Bokuto hummed in agreement, “you’re not wrong.”

Akaashi leaned back into his pillows, and spread his legs wider. How was he already so wet? They were just bickering, basically, and he could feel his slick already dampening through the cotton of his pants. He hoped Bokuto was in the same boat as him, straining his boxers and achingly sticky. 

Just for good measure, and partially because Akaashi felt a little spiteful, he let himself pant into the phone, wanting Bokuto to suffer.

When Bokuto grunted into the phone, the setter smirked victoriously. “Akaashi, _fuck_.”

Bokuto’s breath kept hitching, and Akaashi knew he was probably tugging up and down himself, quickly and needy and thrusting up into his fist. Akaashi held his breath then when he decided to fuck it all (literally) and shoved his hands down his pants and traced his fingers up and along the entirety of his moist slit.

“What else did I do?” Akaashi knew his voice was breathy and gravely and clearly let the other know just how turned on he was, but he didn’t care. Especially because Bokuto sounded worse off then him. Which was more than reassuring.

“Fantasy-you likes chewing on my neck. You kept leaving all these hickeys everywhere… and then when you finally started touching me,” Bokuto gasped quietly and then groaned sweet and deep in the back of his throat, “you _spat_ in your hand and just squeezed so fucking _tight_.”

“Okay, wow,” Akaashi was rolling his swollen clit between his fingers, and he was trying to destroy every incriminating noise that kept trying to leak out his lips, “fantasy-me is kind of a lot.”

“Yeah. But… I like that.” 

“Obviously, it’s your fantasy, moron.” 

“Anyway,” Bokuto continued, “you kept telling me how wet you were.”

Akaashi’s insides throbbed, and he couldn’t stop the small moan that left him.

Bokuto’s breath hitched. “Yeah. Kinda like that.”

“I’m fucking _soaked_.” Akaashi wanted something in him, to move and stretch against that slickness. So he slipped two fingers inside his aching cunt, and pressed them in and out slowly, increasing speed and depth with every jerk of his wrist, and his thumb sloppily brushed his clit as he did so. “Almost as wet as the other day.”

“You tasted good.” Bokuto’s voice wavered, and he heard something shift and then Bokuto’s breath heave harder into the phone, like his mouth was closer, maybe changing his position.

“Thanks.” Akaashi rolled his hips into his hand, and he felt his slick dripping down the curve of his ass, probably staining his sheets but he didn’t care, because he was focused only on Bokuto’s voice and the way there was tightness getting tighter and tighter in his tummy. 

“I wanna eat you out again. But I want it to last longer, I want to actually enjoy it and have you shake with how good it feels. I don’t know.” Bokuto sounded close. “You’re so quiet when you come. I wanna try and make you loud.”

“You can try.” Akaashi licked his lips, thrumming his fingers into his g-spot and quivering with the sensation and the extra slick he could feel oozing out of him. 

“If I get you to scream will you suck my dick?”

“Maybe.”

“Bro, c’mon, I’m gonna have gone down on you twice, and you won’t-“

“Bokuto, just shut up. I’m so fucking close and I don’t want you complaining about this when I come.”

“Sorry, I just-“

“No, stop.” Akaashi’s thighs were shaking, and he was arrhythmically slamming into his hand, wishing his fingers were longer, so they could ram deeper into him. “I’ll swallow you whole. I barely have a gag reflex, so i can definitely do it-“

“ _Fuck_ , Akaashi, I didn’t know that.”

“Well now you do.”

“Mine is awful.”

“Alright.”

“When I’m brushing my teeth, it’s so fucking terrible, bro.”

“Bokuto.” Akaashi did not whine. No, he did not. 

“Sorry.” He could practically see that sheepish smile in his mind. “So…”

“You’re jerking off, right?” Akaashi tried his best to salvage the situation before it derailed enough to keep both of them from reaching their orgasm. “How are you touching yourself?”

“Fast. I’m squeezing tight, god, I’m leaking so much it’s kinda awesome.”

“Okay. You touching the tip?”

“What do you think this is, amateur hour?”

“I don’t know.” Akaashi hissed through his teeth. “It seems like it from this awful phone sex.”

Bokuto squawked. “ _How dare you._ ”

Akaashi groaned into his pillow, more from frustration than anything, and just tried to refocus on his breathing. Yeah, maybe he could just hang up and come on his own. That wasn’t a bad idea, actually…

“Akaashi.”

“What?”

“I wish I could see you right now.”

Oh.

“I’m in my pajamas.”

“No, dummy, fingering yourself.”

_Oh._

“Your face scrunches up when you feel good. It’s cute.”

 _Fuck_.

“You’re pretty quiet, yeah, but your face is so expressive. Anytime I did anything, I’d just see your reaction to it. It’s really hot.”

“Thanks.” The tightness was building in him, and wow, he was getting close way too fast, pleasure spiking in unpredictable bursts. His breaths were erratically leaving and entering through his mouth, and he had resumed desperately rutting and jerking his cunt into his hand.

“I wanna watch you get yourself off. I wanna see what makes your face twitch, so I can do that to you next time.”

“Bokuto, I-“ He was so fucking sticky and hot he was gonna die.

“I wanna make you come all the time.”

And Akaashi was hyperventilating into the phone when he came. He choked on air and rode out the pleasure on his hand, quickly trying to get himself composed enough so he could talk the captain to his own orgasm, but he then heard a cry come through the phone and even through the shuddering waves wracking his whole body, Akaashi was cognizant enough to know that Bokuto just shot his load. Probably from listening to him come. Fuck. Akaashi moaned into his phone, and he heard Bokuto gasp through his ragged breath.

It was a while before either of them said a word. They were just breathing, or trying to. Akaashi had removed his fingers from himself, and he had his eyes shut, lazily stroking his extra-sensitive thighs and his labia as his body climbed down, slowly, sweetly, from the high.

Bokuto broke the silence. “Bro… that was awesome.”

“I guess.”

“C’mon, your night would have been a lot more boring without me.”

“It would have been normal.” Akaashi didn’t know why he was smiling.

“Hey, I gave you two orgasms this week. You can’t complain.” He could practically see Bokuto’s hands raised defensively.

“Maybe.” Akaashi was very weirded out by how much he was smiling, but that was probably from the hormones. However, he was still quite thankful that this was a phone call and Bokuto couldn’t see him.

Bokuto was quiet for a while. And Akaashi wasn’t sure if he had left or hung up or fell asleep. Or a combination of all three. “Bokuto?”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Hey,” the captain said, and his voice seemed a little off, “thanks for not hanging up.”

Akaashi didn’t know what to make of that. “…no problem.”

“I’ll see you on Monday? Morning practice?”

“Mhm.”

“G’night.”

“Night.” 

Akaashi hung up first. He set his phone down and stared up at the ceiling. 

Alright. 

Bokuto was a lot, yeah. He was kind of ridiculous and outspoken, but… he couldn’t put his finger on it. There was something in the way that he just carried himself that made Akaashi pause and recalculate. Maybe it was the way he could completely and unsympathetically destroy his composure. 

Or maybe it was the fact that Akaashi let him do it in the first place.

He sighed.

He needed to stop overthinking things. And more importantly he needed to wash his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sub-par at best, really
> 
> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	3. What Even Is This?

The next morning did not find Akaashi on a good note. 

He hadn’t slept that well. Barely, really. Which was kind of weird, especially because as dreadful as the phone sex with Bokuto had been, he _had_ gotten off. Usually, a bedtime orgasm knocked him out cold for the night. It was pretty much like sleep assurance: if he came, he’d get a solid eight hours, no problem. That sadly hadn’t been the case this time around.

If anything, Akaashi thought sourly as he glared at the cheerful sunlight blaring through his window like it was a plague, maybe the phone sex itself was the reason why. Or more specifically, the person that had been on the other line was to blame.

Bokuto was an idiot, so this was probably his fault.

After Akaashi had hung up on, he had given himself a moment to soak in the fact that _yeah, that actually just happened_ and then he’d gone straight to the bathroom to clean off his sticky fingers and get ready for bed, brush his teeth, floss and whatnot. He had planned to shower in the morning, because as sweaty as he was and as gross as he felt between his legs, he didn’t have the energy to actually do anything about it.

With a minty mouth and hands that smelled like lavender soap, he hopped back into bed and securely snuggled himself in all of his blankets. When he was still conscious twenty minutes later, he came to the conclusion that he was gonna have some issues drifting off. Which was awful, because he had been exhausted. 

After another hour of determined tossing and turning and other fruitless tactics, he had grumpily decided that maybe a shower would do him some good. Hot water always made him weirdly sleepy, then hopefully he’d just be able to crawl back into bed and just zone out.

But as he cleaned his body, letting the water practically scald into his skin (which shouldn’t have been as satisfying as it had been) he just couldn’t stop his thoughts from racing in a plethora of directions. Most of them were stupid: what was he was gonna eat tomorrow for breakfast?, how did he think he did on that last calc test?, did he have clean practice clothes for Monday? As random and dumb as all these musings were, they all kept converging on the same end note, a certain volleyball captain with obnoxious hair.

Akaashi had not been in the mood to play these mind games with himself. Instead he opted for what he thought was a quick solution. These jumbled thoughts were probably his body’s way of telling him he was still a little frustrated (both sexually and emotionally, but mostly sexually). The phone sex had been, he had thought with an amused eye roll, _sub-par_ , so that reality was entirely possible. If he was gonna try and fix this, the shower was honestly the best place.

He had sat down, legs crossed and back hunched forward because he didn’t trust his legs to support him for a second go-around. With the pleasant spray of water on his back, one hand fondling and pinching at his chest and the other working his quickly-slicking insides, he had let his eyes fall shut and his mind wander as he brought his blood to a pleasant boil.

He was hugely thankful for the noisiness of the water, because it drowned out his embarrassingly needy gasps and the constricted, nasally cry that he couldn’t choke down when he eventually shuddered with his second, more overwhelming orgasm of the night. 

Every nerve in him had seemed to tingle, spark like live-wires: he felt overstimulated and raw, but in the best way possible. The pleasure had diffused through him like molasses and the skin of his back felt tight and dry and in need of some serious moisturization from the long exposure to the hot water. He didn’t know if feeling this _used_ made him a little fucked up, but he didn’t care a bit. 

Also, it had been a good thing he had no faith in his legs; undoubtedly he would have collapsed and shattered a bone or something on the slippery ceramic surface. That would’ve sucked because then he definitely wouldn’t have gotten any sleep.

It had taken him longer than usual for his strength to return, which was expected because it wasn’t every day that he came twice in a row, and as relaxing and fucking good as it was, it was really draining. He had been rubbing his still-twitching thighs with a small contented smile, body thrumming and heavy and simply basking in the hot spray on his back. He was in a good place. Akaashi couldn’t help but imagine a pair of bigger hands stroking up and along his legs, a mouth crooning in his ear, saying something grossly-endearing and honest as he was guided back down to earth.

And then Akaashi had stared down at his legs, mouth agape, and muttered darkly, “ _What the actual fuck is wrong with me._ ”

He had hunched farther into himself and moaned, not for any reason sans his immense desire to melt away and swirl down the drain with the rest of the water. 

He didn’t have the time or the energy to deal with this.

However, as he dragged himself up onto his unsteady legs, and cleaned himself for the second time that night, he couldn’t help but get caught up in this confusing mental nightmare. 

Yeah, Bokuto ate him out once. Okay, so they had argued with one another earlier that night with their hands down their pants. Sure, all of that happened. But that didn’t make it acceptable or even logical that he had just caught himself daydreaming about having an intimate moment with the captain.

He had shut the water off, and let himself just frown there alone in the steam, sucking it into his lungs to air out his delusional brain. None of this made any sense.

Towel-dried and in new pajamas (because the others were filthy for obvious reasons) he slinked back into bed. He had spent his last waking moments arguing with himself that he in fact did _not_ want Bokuto telling him again just how hot his face was, and at some point he had fallen asleep.

—

So, there he was, rolling around in his bed, messing up his blankets further and trying to fall back asleep to no avail. He had a disturbing amount of homework he had to do. Also, he had to eat at some point, get some errands done around the house, maybe help his mom with dinner. He didn’t have time to have confusing thoughts.

He fished around the mess of blankets until he found his phone, which was running low on battery because he had forgotten to plug it in last night, and checked the time. 10:03AM. That was late, even for him.

Almost on cue, he heard the tell-tale sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. That was definitely his mom, checking on him.

A gentle knocking on the door came soon after the creaking on the wooden steps halted, and he called out a _come in!_ before the knocking even stopped.

The door creaked open and the concerned face of his mother poked in. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No,” he threw the covers off of him and just stared at his mom, not caring how helpless and pathetic he probably looked from his lack of sleep and terrible mood, “couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“Mom, no.”

“Alright, alright. No need to get snippy.” She shook her head and a few strands of her dark hair came loose to frame her face. Relief relaxed her expression and she then fully invited herself in, deeming it alright to come in. 

She hadn’t quite yet changed out of her pajamas, either, and she sat down on the edge of his bed and stroked her soft fingers through her son’s hair. He automatically deflated from the attention, and she asked simply, “Hungry?”

He hummed affirmatively, and closed his eyes.

“Anything in particular?” She probed, brushing his fringe out of his face.

A noncommittal hum vibrated from his throat. She laughed. 

“Eggs? Bacon?” She gasped, and Akaashi heard her tone brighten. “Oh, I bought those microwavable waffles yesterday.” 

Akaashi opened his eyes, suddenly _very_ interested. “Remember them? That’s all you would eat when you were little. They were on sale, so I got the chocolate chip ones.”

Oh, he remembered those well. 

Akaashi felt bad for anyone who didn’t have a good relationship with their mom. He couldn’t imagine what that would be like.

She bit her lip, trying to stop herself from laughing at how suddenly he perked up at the mention of frozen waffles. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, and he wrapped his arms around her back and said, voice still groggy but genuine, “Love you.”

“Waffles, then?”

“Yeah.”

They stayed like that for a moment before she straightened herself up, tapped his nose, and went downstairs to go make his breakfast (that he was way too excited for). Akaashi looked out his window, absorbing the sunlight into his eyes and trying to blink the sleep out. 

Maybe today wouldn’t be terrible.

And honestly, maybe last night wasn’t terrible either. If anything, all of these strange thoughts were probably just his subconscious guilt pestering him for not having reciprocated anything to Bokuto yet.

It wasn’t like he felt obligated to do anything just because he thought Bokuto deserved it. Or even because of the third-year’s constant whining about wanting his dick sucked. It wasn’t anything like that. No, it just seemed fair. Equivalent trade.

It wasn’t like this meant anything, anyway. Just a mutual get-each-other-off agreement. Akaashi could live with that. With all the stress from school and volleyball, he could definitely get behind the idea of having someone to fool around with. Get off, get someone else off. It was kind of exciting. 

With all these hormones, with the whole _teenager thing_ and the fact that he was gonna start his hormone therapy soon (and he had read that it did a number to your sex drive), it was a lot more acceptable outlet than the alternative: sitting alone in his room, muffling his noises into his body pillow and then sulking off to shower off the mess. Yeah, this arrangement with Bokuto seemed a whole lot less depressing.

Plus, Akaashi thought with an amused smile, he recently learned that he liked digging his nails into something with a pulse when he was about to come.

_Yeah, this’s fine_. 

Akaashi sprung up and walked towards the bathroom to brush his teeth and pee. _I could do this. I’ll talk to him about this on Monday._

There were worse people he could be friends with benefits with. At least this one had nice back muscles and a voice that made him shiver.

Yeah, this was definitely fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> child akaashi only eating smiley face potatoes, dinosaur chicken nuggets and microwavable waffles 2k15


	4. Why Did I Do This?

By the time Akaashi arrived at school for morning practice the sun still wasn’t quite all the way up yet. The early morning light was a drowsy, pale pink and orange hybrid, and it made the dew on the grass glimmer. It was pretty - it was always pretty, but Akaashi was always too preoccupied rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and dragging his feet to get the chance to actually appreciate it.

“G’morning.” He yawned to everyone inside when he entered the locker room. He got a few sleepy responses from his undressing teammates as he wandered over to his locker. 

Akaashi always wore his practice clothes to school on days they had early practice, so he only had to lock his bag away and be cautious that his neatly-folded his school uniform wouldn’t wrinkle in the meantime. Before he shut the door, he reached into his bag to retrieve his half-empty bottle of orange juice from breakfast. As he chugged the rest of it, he scanned the locker room for the one person he _actually_ wanted to give a proper good morning to. 

But, as usual, that idiot wasn’t here on time.

Akaashi rolled his eyes and tossed the empty plastic bottle into the recycling bin. Then he joined everyone in the gym for pre-practice stretches and their warm up.

Unlike usual, it was a pretty quiet and uneventful warm-up. It took Akaashi a couple of minutes to realize why that was so - his brain was still a little fuzzy. It was because there wasn’t any music on. Bokuto always plugged in his phone into the gym’s speaker system and proceeded to blast his awful hip-hop and rap playlist at the highest possible volume. He would always argue when complained to about it that it would ‘pump them up’ to have a kick-ass, productive practice. Akaashi, like a couple of the other players, thought it was just annoying and a hazard to their hearing.

But no one ever really put up too much of a fight to turn it off, though.

Now that it was silent for once except for a couple of scattered conversations here and there, Akaashi kind of missed it. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

When they were almost done with their warm-up, a loud screech of, “GOOD MORNING~!” echoed throughout the vastness of the gym. 

It was about time.

Akaashi was finishing stretching his left quad when he called back, unamused but not exactly annoyed, “You’re late.”

“Sorry!! You know how Monday mornings and I get along~.” Bokuto was already changed into a wrinkled yellow tee and baggy black shorts and he jogged over to join them, plopping himself next to Akaashi to start his own stretches immediately to make up for lost time. 

Akaashi felt like further scolding him, because he always did and he really _couldn’t_ be late all the time as the team captain, but something made the setter restrain himself. Dark circles ringed the captain’s eyes. More concerning was that his hair hadn’t been gelled to its usual ridiculous style. Bokuto looked _awful_. He didn’t actually look like Bokuto. If anything, he looked more like a mangy raccoon than the stupid owl he usually bragged he resembled.

Akaashi had never seen him like this before. He didn’t know why, but it made him uneasy. 

The setter was sure the rest of the team had noticed Bokuto’s train-wreck of an appearance, but also had decided to not mention it. He might as well follow the trend. Besides, he knew just how much not being able to sleep sucked - he was pretty sure that was Bokuto’s issue. Akaashi just silently empathized with his captain as he released his left leg from his hand, concluding his pre-practice routine.

Alright, he could talk to Bokuto about this later. He didn’t wake up at the crack of fucking dawn to slack at practice and have a pity party instead.

He was about to go get the ball cart when he suddenly felt resistance pulling at his shorts. Akaashi looked down and saw, with no real surprise, the captain holding onto the fabric with this unreadable smile on his pale face. “Morning, Akaashi.” 

He didn’t know what to say to that. From his disheveled appearance, his weird tone, and that simply _bizarre_ look on his face, Akaashi was sure there was some underlying message trying to be communicated. 

But he was too tired to be playing mind games and feelings detective this early, so he quietly muttered his own, “Mornin,’” before he plucked Bokuto’s large hand off of his shorts and went to the supplies closet to get the volleyballs. 

Bokuto didn’t whine about him being mean, and that kind of was off-putting. But Akaashi tried to ignore that, too.

—

Most of practice was normal. _Most_. 

They ran a couple of drills and played a small scrimmage against one another. They got tired and sweaty and still managed to have some fun. Nothing out of the usual. 

Bokuto had over-enthusiastically volunteered to be on Akaashi’s team which honestly wasn’t out of place. But there was still this look in Bokuto’s eyes that made the setter feel uncomfortable. But, Akaashi kept telling himself he’d talk to him about this later and walked over to his side of the court, following suit like the rest of his teammates, to start the game.

With Bokuto and Akaashi together, it was expected that their team would have the advantage. Konoha loudly complained when the other team, as predicted, started to pull ahead, moaning about how unfair the match up was, and those complaints got even more heated when his spikes kept getting blocked by a straight-faced Washio. All of this was expected and normal.

What _wasn’t_ normal were Bokuto’s lingering touches on Akaashi. 

After a successful toss, the captain would shout _nice toss, bro!_ and come up to the setter, pat his back and then leave his hand there a little too long. Or, even weirder, he kept standing too close to Akaashi while they waited to receive the serve from the other team. Bokuto brushed his shoulders, his hands, his arms against any part of Akaashi he could. It was weird. It made Akaashi feel flustered, and he did his best to mask his discomfort.

However, there was no possible way that everybody wasn’t noticing this. But as per usual, they kept quiet about anything weird going on between their captain and vice-captain on the court. For once, Akaashi wished they would say something, because maybe then Bokuto would fucking _stop_.

Normally, Bokuto was very susceptible to mood swings, so the rest of the team probably brushed it off as him being overly tired, temperamental, whatever. 

But, Akaashi knew better. This was about _what happened_ between them. He was dragging it out onto the court because Bokuto probably thought he was being _cute_ or some shit.

It was pissing Akaashi off.

Yeah, so they had done some things. Some sexual things. But that didn’t give that selfish _asshole_ the right to be handsy with him outside of those interactions. They weren’t in a relationship. This was entirely out of line, and by the end of the final set, Bokuto scoring the match point to secure them a 2-0 win, Akaashi was absolutely livid.

During their cool down, Bokuto as expected planted himself next to Akaashi. However, he wasn’t trying to be grabby this time. He was chatting with the other guys about the homework he still had to do before class. Akaashi wanted to to think that maybe it had been just a mood swing, but he knew better. Bokuto was too intentional with stuff like this to be a coincidence. 

Plus, Bokuto was making an effort _not_ to look at him. He also put physically more space than usual between them. Something was up, and Akaashi was mad enough to get to the bottom of this.

If he just had a problem, he should just say it and have it dealt with and fixed. _Fucking idiot_.

After they finished their stretches and cleaned up the gym, they were all back in the locker room. Everyone was showered and was slipping into their school uniforms. Akaashi was too annoyed to shower. He also wasn’t in the mood to switch out of his sports binder: it was way more comfortable than his everyday one, so he left that on and put on his uniform. He was already too emotionally-constricted, there was no way he was going to make himself feel more physically-constricted, too. 

Akaashi was keeping to himself, not making any effort to talk to Bokuto about whatever the hell was on his mind. If he had an issue, Bokuto could put on his big boy pants and come talk to him about it.

He wasn’t sure if Bokuto figured out he was being ignored, but after a while he could sense the weight of Bokuto’s stare on him. It was heavy and obvious, but Akaashi frowned into his open locker and continued to ignore him.

When the rest of the team cleared out, either heading over early to homeroom or grabbing last minute food from the cafeteria, just the two of them remained. Bokuto was taking an abnormal amount of time tying his tie, a blatant stalling tactic that anyone could see through. 

Akaashi, when he felt the time was right, grabbed his bag and slammed his locker, making it obvious that he had the intention to leave.

“Akaashi?”

So predictable.

“What?” The setter turned around blank-faced, not giving the captain any easy way out in this exchange.

“…are you mad at me?”

Akaashi said nothing.

“Did I do something wrong?” 

All of a sudden, Akaashi was taken aback because Bokuto looked _genuinely_ surprised and hurt. There wasn’t a single trace of any of that dramatic garbage he usually pulled. It was weird. Why the hell was Bokuto being so weird?! 

Akaashi hated being thrown for a loop, so he decided to cut to the chase. “What the hell was that at practice?”

“Huh?”

“You were…” Akaashi paused, because suddenly _he_ was feeling self-conscious. Had he been imagining all of this? Even if he had, that didn’t change the fact that he was midway through an accusation before he lost his nerve. Bokuto was staring at him with concern but also with incredible _patience_. It was like he was just waiting to get a new one ripped for him. 

Akaashi swallowed, and continued, because although he himself was a lot of things, one of those things wasn’t a hypocrite. If Bokuto wasn’t allowed to tease him with mixed signals and unclear messages, then he sure as hell couldn’t pull that crap either, “…all that touching crap. You were pretty much groping me on the court.”

Bokuto let the words sink in for a second before he responded, voice eerily quiet. “I’m… sorry.”

Akaashi blinked, his annoyed facade breaking. That’s _all_ he had to say? “I’m not a toy.” He continued, biting his lip and brows furrowing, “you can’t treat me like that.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Bokuto ran his hand through his unstyled hair. “I just was happy to see you, I guess. I missed you.”

“Still uncalled for.” Akaashi averted his eyes and readjusted his bag strap around his shoulder. “I kind of don’t want everyone to know about, well, _anything_.”

“I fucked up, I know.”

Bokuto was taking this without a fight. It made the setter’s stomach churn. What the hell? Why did it suddenly feel like _he_ was the bad guy here, the one attacking Bokuto? And why did he feel awful for saying all of this? It was all true! It didn’t make any sense, and all of these weird negative feelings were making Akaashi get defensive. And when he got defensive, he got _mean_. “Just because you think I _owe you_ some sexual favor or whatever doesn’t give you the right to act like that.”

“Woah, woah,” Bokuto froze, “That’s not what this is about at all.”

“You sure?” Akaashi glared. “You’re _absolutely_ sure?”

“Akaashi, fuck, _yes_. I’m not trying to get anything like that from you.”

“Well, you’re trying to get something.” Akaashi turned on his heel and started towards the door, not because he felt angry, but because he was starting to feel _anxious_ and _scared_. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was escaping. “You don’t just touch people like that for no reason.” It was starting to get uncomfortable to talk, so he cut himself off there and left the locker room, refusing to look back at Bokuto.

Bokuto didn’t try to stop him. He didn’t say anything or move when the door slammed shut. It just made Akaashi feel worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was supposed to have a lot more making out than it ended up having. sorry.
> 
> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	5. Can We Do This?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with this, friends. all the feedback really keeps me going. :)

_> > i’m sorry_   
_> >akaashi i’m sorry_   
_> >i’m not mad at you please don’t be mad at me_   
_> >i know i fucked up. i’m so sorry_

The texts were all variations of the same thing, and Akaashi had gotten about twenty of them before first period had ended. 

Bokuto was even spelling everything correctly. This was serious,

Halfway through the next period, Akaashi had to shut his phone off. The constant vibrations were making him feel nauseous and miserable. Why _that_ was happening was a mystery. This had to Bokuto’s fault.

Or at least he kept trying to convince himself it was.

By third period, the last before lunch, he didn’t really believe that anymore.

Okay, maybe _he_ had gotten out of line. Maybe he had just overreacted to everything that happened during practice. The setter still firmly believed that Bokuto had been in the wrong for the touching, but his reaction to it definitely didn’t have to be what it had been. 

Fuck.

Akaashi was staring at his history textbook blankly, not absorbing any words on the page or an iota of his teacher’s lecture. This whole stupid thing was ruining his concentration. If he started failing tests and falling behind because of this drama, he was gonna explode. Literally explode.

_But, how could he fix it?_

Akaashi was tracing patterns with the eraser-end of his pencil along the weathered pages. He didn’t know why he was even feeling this miserable in the first place. He had arguments with Bokuto all the time, so why was this one any different? It shouldn’t be, but it _was_ and it was stressing the setter out like nothing else.

_Maybe I do owe him._

Akaashi sunk his head into his arms and closed his eyes. Was this all because he had a weird complex about not returning favors? It must be. There wasn’t any other reason why he’d be feeling all of these other things otherwise.

Yeah, but, maybe _he_ was stressing out about not fulfilling his end of this bewildering sexual bargain - _what the hell was it even that they were doing?_ They hadn’t had a single conversation about it. There had been no guidelines, no rules, no end date established. It was so ambiguous. Too ambiguous. Yeah, that’s probably why _he_ was freaking out, but whatever the hell was bothering _Bokuto_ seemed to run deeper than that. 

Akaashi swallowed. They needed to set some ground rules immediately.

He lifted his head off his desk, new urgency and purpose fueling his movements. The teacher was facing away, writing on the board - _perfect_ \- so he fished into his bag and pulled out his phone as quietly as possible. Turning it on, while waiting for it to restart he hurriedly caught up on the notes he had missed. 

No exploding was in his future, no sir.

When it restarted, he noted that Bokuto had sent only a handful of messages since he had turned his phone off.

_> >you’re my best friend_   
_> >i hate fighting with you_   
_> >you mean too much to me_

Akaashi stared at the last message and held his breath. That should have made him feel happy, proud to be thought of so highly by _his_ best friend. But, it just made his chest hurt and him feel like absolute _garbage_.

This needed to stop.

Akaashi typed back way too fast. 

_> >come to the clubroom during lunch_

Bokuto’s replied instantaneously.

Akaashi dropped his phone back into his school bag. It was like a small weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Now he just had to wait forty minutes until he could lift the rest of it off him.

He smiled privately to himself and attempted to refocus on the history lesson.

—

When he arrived at the clubroom he had expected Bokuto would be there before him.

And he wasn’t disappointed.

Bokuto still looked as miserable as he had at morning practice: his hair boringly normal, the prominent dark circles, uniform wrinkled slightly. However, his eyes seemed to be a little brighter, and that calmed Akaashi down more than it should have.

“Hey,” they both said in unison. Bokuto averted his eyes and flushed, and Akaashi coughed, trying to hide the color that he knew had risen to his face.

Akaashi started this time, knowing they had no time to waste by acting like idiots, “So, I’m sorry about this morning. For acting like a jerk.”

Bokuto refocused on him and shook his head violently. “No, no way. It was all me, bro, all me. Don’t apologize, I was out of line, not you.”

“I didn’t have to be so mean, though.”

“I deserved it. It’s fine.” And then Bokuto grinned, and Akaashi felt his confidence falter. That fucking idiot was _glowing_. 

But, he had a mission. He couldn’t be tripped up reassuring smiles. He had to make sense out of whatever this was. 

But there was something he needed to do first.

“Come here.” Akaashi didn’t like the way his voice suddenly sounded thick.

The captain had not been expecting such a request. Yet, he still dropped his bag and obediently walked over to the setter, not masking any of his blatant curiosity.

When Bokuto was near enough, Akaashi grabbed him by the lapels of his uniform jacket and pulled him close. Then his mouth started to place kisses along the other’s tan neck.

A terrified, confused noise left the captain, and Akaashi could feel the sound vibrate from inside his throat. “What’re you doing!?”

“I owe you.” Akaashi said simply and continued to drag his mouth along the skin that wasn’t hidden beneath his shirt collar. 

Bokuto stiffened, but didn’t push him away. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know, but I feel like I do.”

“Akaashi, it’s fine, you really don’t.”

The setter removed himself from out of the crook of the captain’s neck and frowned. As much as he hated making himself emotionally vulnerable, it seemed there was no other way to get Bokuto to just understand and let him do this. “I’ve been anxious for a couple of days about this. You did so much for me, and I just feel like I have to do something for you. Okay?”

Bokuto opened his mouth to protest, but he snapped it shut after a second, and stayed quiet.

“Okay?” Akaashi pressed, needing an answer. “Am I allowed to do this? _I want to_. Is that okay with you?”

Bokuto tensed his jaw and eventually nodded.

Akaashi sighed. _Finally_.

He didn’t put his mouth back on the captain’s skin immediately. Instead, his hands loosened Bokuto’s tie and then undid his collar a few buttons down to expose more skin, making available bit of shoulder and collarbone.

Bokuto stayed quiet as Akaashi’s fingers did what they wanted to. His breathing had picked up just a tiny bit, though. He felt Bokuto’s exhalations on his face, but he didn’t mind at all. It was actually kind of comforting.

Akaashi made eye contact with the taller boy before he continued. “You like this?” Akaashi’s fingers smoothed along the warm, alive skin of Bokuto’s throat. “Neck stuff?”

Bokuto swallowed again and nodded, his eyes going just a bit glassy.

“Good.”

Akaashi lowered his mouth to where neck met shoulder and bit down gently. Bokuto’s hands instantly wrapped around the setter’s back and held onto his uniform jacket. Akaashi smiled against him as he bit down harder and then playfully sucked at the flesh before he moved onto another spot close by and repeated. Not enough force to leave a mark yet, but enough to feel pleasant. Not enough to be satisfied with.

Bokuto let out a slow breath and tightened his fingers into the fabric of Akaashi’s clothes. That seemed to be a good sign.

Akaashi continued that along the curve of his neck, and then down near his collarbone. Bokuto seemed to really like it, and when he got closer to the column of his throat, he made small sounds that Akaashi felt more than he heard. It was kind of hot, but Akaashi didn’t linger on that thought.

When he got bored of the teasing, he decided to exploit the weakness he had discovered. Starting at the base of his throat, Akaashi licked a slow stripe along the length of Bokuto’s throat and stopped when he reached the underside of his chin. Bokuto actually shuddered.

Getting pleasured was fun. But, _giving_ it was something else entirely.

Akaashi peppered wet, open-mouth kisses along every inch of flesh he could. Bokuto’s breathing was labored now, and his eyes had fallen shut from enjoying the sensations. It was actually _really_ hot, watching Bokuto react. And knowing that he felt good because of Akaashi… The setter started to use his teeth more in the kisses, wanting more responses from him. 

The setter felt so much better. Less anxious and angry and scared; just so much better. This was probably exactly what he needed. Balance the scales. Give instead of take.

Akaashi was starting to soak into his underwear, but he neglected that. Right now, it wasn’t about him.

His teeth scraped at a spot below where Bokuto’s collar fell; it would be hidden from sight so Akaashi sucked harshly at the skin, knowing he could mar the skin as much as he wanted. A moan ripped from the captain’s mouth, and he was shaking a little and panting fast through his mouth. His hands were moving up and down Akaashi’s clothed back desperately, and eventually, one hand found its way into Akaashi’s hair and pulled. 

His insides throbbed at the slightly painful pleasure from the pull, and he sucked harder on the spot to keep himself from making a sound.

Bokuto’s body felt like it was burning. Heat radiated through his clothes, in his breath. It was incredible. Akaashi liked the warmth, how it felt against his face, how it mingled with his own through his clothes. He wanted more.

So, he kept trying to find new spots to make Bokuto ignite. He mouthed up his throat, worried the fragile skin between his teeth, and dragged his tongue around. He also trailed up the side of his neck and tortured the skin behind and below his right ear. Bokuto apparently really liked that, and he made these low little noises when Akaashi toyed his earlobe with his tongue. 

All the while, the fingers in his hair kept yanking and the hand on his back kept caressing up and down. At one point, that hand on his back sneaked down and squeezed Akaashi’s ass, which tore an instinctive, embarrassing moan out of the setter’s mouth. 

Fuck. 

Akaashi pretended like it didn’t happen. But, Bokuto was smiling, so awfully pleased, and Akaashi repressed the urge to smack him.

“You’re good at this.” Bokuto breathed after a moment, tangling his fingers through the setter’s messy black hair, which felt amazing.

“Thanks.”

Akaashi returned to the hollow of Bokuto’s throat. He was gifting light marks to the area, trying not to injure the sensitive skin too badly, but, also no longer caring if the bruises would be hidden by Bokuto’s uniform or not. 

And Bokuto was loving it, making these _sexy_ crooning noises and giving breathless encouragements that made the setter even wetter, wanting Bokuto’s hands grabbing at him _more_ , clawing _more_ , saying _more_. Just _more_.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Akaashi adjusted himself on his feet, pressing his legs together and squeezing the muscles of his insides, desperate for just a little relief. He was soaking and throbbing and aching for Bokuto’s mouth down there again. To shove his tongue inside and suck him dry.

But as he shifted he accidentally pressed their hips together, and he felt a stiffness drag across his hip. Bokuto was hard. How the hell hadn’t he noticed that until now?

Bokuto, at the accidental friction, shut his eyes and groaned. He also tensed, and Akaashi had a feeling it was to keep himself from dry humping him.

Akaashi had a better idea. One of his hands tickled down the captain’s chest and stomach to cup Bokuto through his pants. Akaashi’s thumb stroked along the stiff fabric, relishing in the way his prick twitched underneath his confining clothes. 

Bokuto’s mouth opened with a strangled noise. “You don’t have to.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “How many times have you whined about a blow job this week?”

At ‘blowjob’, the captain’s eyes dilated and a needy whine sounded in the back of his throat, and it went straight down to Akaashi’s cunt. _Fuck_. 

His plan already started to morph in his head, because his hormones suddenly were making his mind picture himself on his knees with the captain’s cock shoved deep in his throat. The image was making his fingers shake, but Akaashi tried to not think about that. He had a plan that he didn’t want to change. And he also felt like being a tease, so there was that too.

“Well, you’re not getting one.” Akaashi mumbled, his entire hand rubbing Bokuto now, and he had given up on keeping still and instead let himself grind back into the friction. “You still have to get that sub-par hand job I promised.”

Bokuto didn’t even look remotely disappointed.

Akaashi pressed a light kiss to his jaw. Next, his hands were making quick work of the captain’s belt and fly. The pants sagged down Bokuto’s thighs, and Akaashi was examining Bokuto’s stupid maroon boxers with the wet spot where his very erect cock was leaking against the fabric.

Akaashi wanted to grab at it, but instead he briefly walked away to reach into his bag to pull out the small travel package of tissues he always carried with him. Bokuto pouted as he watched him take a couple of tissues out. When it clicked in his brain, the most amused smile, the most Bokuto smile stretched on his lips. “I’m fucking pumped.”

“Don’t be. It’s not gonna be that good.” Akaashi snorted.

“Anything from you is good.” 

Akaashi halted. Why did he keep saying these things? And why did he keep reacting so strongly to them?

Whatever. Akaashi recovered quickly and rolled his eyes. In no time, Bokuto’s boxers were yanked down and his fist grabbed the captain’s cock and squeezed. That shut up Bokuto. Well, really, he groaned, but he wasn’t saying embarrassing things anymore, so that was just as good.

His hand started to move up and down Bokuto’s cock, and he busied his mouth with kissing his abused neck, licking at blossoming hickeys and biting down to create new ones. And Bokuto was still groaning, pressing his chin into Akaashi’s head and snapping his hips forward.

Akaashi did that for a while, content at his pace, not worrying if someone would barge into the clubroom to see the captain and vice-captain of the volleyball team fucking in the center of the room. It just wasn’t a priority right now to think about that.

What was a priority was making Bokuto shudder again. He knew the tip was sensitive, so his fingers played with it, rolling that sticky precum everywhere. A slur of hurried whispers of _fuck yes_ was the response into Akaashi’s hair.

“So much better than _sub-par_ ,” Bokuto hissed, and tugged Akaashi closer. “Do you go around jerking people off or something when you’re not at practice?”

Akaashi was thankful Bokuto couldn’t see his humiliated face. “No, shut up.” The captain was too busy moaning into his scalp, so Akaashi wasn’t really that sure why he even was that embarrassed.

In all honesty, this was the first time he’d ever done this. A hand job. Akaashi wasn’t a total virgin: he had kissed a handful of people in his life. He had made out with faceless people at parties, and had partaken in his fair share of groping. But this was the first time his hands were touching the skin beneath another person’s pants. He only half-knew what he was doing. Bokuto didn’t have to know that.

But, he probably knew anyway. A part of Akaashi thought that maybe he was just trying to encourage him, because maybe he actually wasn’t doing that good of a job, but that was the dumb, insecure part of his brain that he usually ignored anyway. If Bokuto needed more than he was getting, he would be cracking jokes and whining about exactly what he wanted. The fact that he wasn’t was a sign that Akaashi was probably doing something right.

Feeling a little heady himself, Akaashi went back to full-on stroking the captain’s cock. He moved his wrist at a faster pace, and his other hand clenched the balled-up tissues, making sure he hadn’t dropped them or something.

Bokuto’s chest was heaving, and his hips were trying to match his pace, but Akaashi’s fist was moving too fast. Everything was out of sync, and Bokuto was swearing into his hair and tearing at it so hard Akaashi thought it was gonna rip out.

“What the fuck, I’m gonna _come_ …“

“Already?” He teased, but still covered Bokuto’s tip with the tissues while his other hand twisted and pumped and squeezed.

“I’m never, this fast - _oh fuck me_ -“ and Bokuto was crying out into his scalp and violently jerking his hips and every part of him seemed to shake as he came into the tissues in Akaashi’s hand. He was gasping into Akaashi, and thrusting into the setter’s hand, and it all seemed so instinctive and out of his control that Akaashi moaned. He helped Bokuto come off his high with a few more lazy strokes here and there that left the captain shuddering against like he was dying.

Bokuto’s arms had wrapped securely around the setter’s shoulders, simply holding him, a little unsteady on his legs. He panted into Akaashi’s ear while the setter used the not-sticky part of the tissue to wipe off any extra sweat or cum off that he had missed on Bokuto’s spent cock. He dropped the tissues on the ground, and told himself he would worry about throwing it out in a minute or two.

But then every thought and whooshed from his brain because something wet was on his ear. It was Bokuto’s mouth, and he was kissing his ear and it felt _really good_ and Bokuto was puffing hot air against it and using his teeth and Akaashi’s legs started to shake because he was so _disgustingly wet_ already and in that moment he wanted more than anything to get pinned against the ground and get _fucked_ until he couldn’t breathe.

“Let me make you feel good.” Bokuto whispered, nails scratching into the nape of his neck.

_Oh my god. Yes._

Akaashi hissed through his teeth, “No.”

“Why?” Bokuto was still breathy and was toying with the shell of his ear with his tongue. “I want to.”

“We don’t have time. Lunch’s almost over.” Akaashi bit his lip and clenched his insides again. “And I need to talk to you.”

“We can talk while I finger-fuck you.” _And it sounded like such a good idea…_

“No, shut up.” Akaashi bristled and wiggled away with incredible willpower from Bokuto’s mouth. “This is important.”

Bokuto gave him a look, but stopped trying to get into Akaashi’s pants. For now. 

“It’s about this.” Akaashi sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself down. “Whatever _this_ is. What’re we _doing_?”

Bokuto was quiet, but he still had that look on his face.

“I just… we didn’t establish anything. We’re fooling around, yeah, I get that. But for how long? Why? I just…” Akaashi felt weird saying all of this, because it was making him feel oddly uncomfortable, “don’t want anyone’s feelings to get hurt.”

Bokuto still wasn’t saying anything.

“Because… this isn’t a relationship. We’re not dating.”

Akaashi couldn’t read Bokuto at all, and it was absolutely terrifying. 

“We’re not.” Akaashi repeated, swallowing. 

“No.” Bokuto finally said. “We’re not.”

“It’s more… of a friend’s with benefits thing, I guess.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

The clubroom was so quiet.

Akaashi had never seen Bokuto so straight-faced. “So… is that okay?” Bokuto didn’t answer right away, so Akaashi started to speak again. “We don’t have to keep doing this.”

“I want to.” Bokuto blurted. 

“That’s fine… but we’re doing this casually, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

The conversation was over, but Akaashi didn’t feel the least bit better about it. It was still quiet in the room when he bent down to pick up the nasty tissues and toss them out. 

Bokuto meanwhile wandered over to the mirror on the wall and inspected all the hickeys he had gotten, it seemed. His fingers were touching them. Akaashi felt a little embarrassed, because he didn’t mean to leave literally _twenty_ of them. But, Bokuto didn’t look like he hated them. He actually looked kind of pleased. He was smiling, brushing them with his fingertips, and Akaashi just stared at him as he did that because _it was so fucking intimate_.

Akaashi wanted to break the silence, change his mind. _Sorry, I take it back. Let’s stop. No more._ He felt like this was gonna get worse. More of whatever Bokuto was doing. More of whatever the fuck Akaashi was feeling. It was just going to get worse.

But Akaashi didn’t want to stop. When he realized that, he turned away from Bokuto and stared at the floor.

The bell that signaled the end of lunch rang a couple of moments later while Bokuto was still tracing the bruises. He turned around guiltily and said, “…Sorry I made you miss lunch.”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi tried to smile, “I wasn’t hungry, anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry i'm a drama queen
> 
> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	6. We Can't Do This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really sorry, y’all. I’ve just been in a weird mindset for the last week... But all the comments and kudos have been really lovely, and it's helped me a lot. More than you can know. 
> 
> Good news, I'm coming out of my emotional funk! Bad news, I went to the beach today and my back is burnt af.

The rest of the week was tense, and everybody around Akaashi could tell. He knew they could.

He had been off his game everywhere: at practice, in schoolwork, in social settings. Usually, he was reserved - Akaashi wasn’t really known for his cheery, loquacious disposition. Yet somehow, he must have been even more distant than normal. 

Akaashi has been told more times than he can count that his default facial expression is _annoyed_. This week, he must have seemed blatantly miserable or pissed or _something_ because everyone - his friends, his teammates, random students in the hallways, kept giving him these pitying looks and suddenly an extra couple of feet of distance was added to the area of his personal bubble. It was like he was a wild animal or had contracted a particularly infectious disease.

Even Bokuto had been giving him more space this week. Not that _that_ was a surprise.

Akaashi had spent a lot of his down time glaring at walls, or holding his face in his hands, trying to figure out why that one conversation with Bokuto kept playing _over_ and _over_ in his head, and _why_ it made his stomach feel like it was bursting with squirming insects that were eating him from the inside out.

He spent hours obsessing over those questions. And even after all those wasted hours, he still came up with no answers. Or an _acceptable_ answer.

Soon enough the last day of the school week was there. The end was marked with the contents of Akaashi’s bag. It was filled with a couple of nearly-failed and one actually-failed tests, a couple of half-completed homework assignments and a depressing amount of empty snack wrappers that he felt too bothered to throw away.

When he was packing up for the day and he got a good look at the inside of his bag, Akaashi almost snorted in a self-deprecating way. Maybe this was a sick metaphor for his life or something.

After practice, he didn’t even say goodbye to anyone on the team. And no tried to say goodbye to him, either. Except one person, of course. Bokuto had attempted a weak smile and a timid wave, but Akaashi didn’t even spare him a glance as he hurried out of the clubroom and headed straight home, walking just a little too fast.

What he was doing to Bokuto was unfair. Outrageously unfair. He just couldn’t _stop_ , though. After all, it was Akaashi’s idea to keep this casual. He was the one that controlled that conversation. Bokuto had basically been shutdown and cornered by him. But he _allowed_ himself to be trapped and he agreed to everything that had been forced on him. And it made Akaashi _sick_.

And then Akaashi had ignored the captain for most of the week, only interacting with him when it was necessary. The two had short, stiff exchanges and texts back (from Akaashi’s end) consisted only of _yes_ or _no_ when it was something regarding the team. Anything else, the setter just didn’t reply to.

And Bokuto still put on a smile for him. And that made Akaashi even _sicker_.

And it went without saying that their little _friends with benefits_ arrangement hadn’t had any new developments. Everything they had done thus far had made the setter confused and uneasy, and doing more of those things would undoubtedly make those awful feelings even worse.

Why was this making him so flustered? None of it meant anything, anyway.

But, here he was. 

Sitting alone in his room on a Friday night in his pajamas before the sun actually set, wrapped in his blankets with the lights off, trying to win an argument with himself that he was so _afraid_ of losing.

He had barely finished his dinner before. Akaashi had noticed his mother sending him these small concerned looks as the meal went on. She knew better than anyone that he hated being confronted about personal things in front of a lot of people (in this situation, it was just his father, but still). So, she simply made eye contact with him and a taciturn exchange as he listlessly picked at his vegetables. _I know something’s up and I want you to know I’m here for you_. That’s what those tiny, almost invisible expressions had communicated to him. And he was so thankful that he had been lucky enough to have been born to this woman.

He had offered to clean up dinner, but she refused his help. With a grateful look he returned to his bedroom and resumed his early activity of wallowing in his own self-contained misery.

When there was knock on his door sometime later, he had been expecting it. And a little support, as much as he hated to admit it, was always comforting to have.

“Hi.” He said when he opened the door.

“You know you can always come to me about anything.” She got right down to business. All efforts at secrecy were gone now, and her face had morphed into full on worry.

“I know.” He shrugged, because he didn’t know what else to say.

“You don’t have to tell me what it is if you don’t want to.” Akaashi noticed her fingers twisted at her hips when she spoke, and that made his chest hurt because this whole thing was _so dumb_ and it was making his mom _upset_. “But, if there’s anything I can do-“

“It’s fine.” He didn’t feel bad about interrupting her. He also didn’t try to reassure her with a smile, because both of them would know it was in-genuine. Neither of them put on fronts. Honesty was the best policy, she had been telling him since he was little. “It’s under control, Mom.”

Her brow furrowed, and he could see there there were so many things she wanted to say or ask, but she kept them all to herself and settled on, “I trust you.”

Akaashi bit the inside of his cheek. It was hard not to feel like he didn’t deserve her.

“I love you.” She told him, and her smile, albeit small, was real.

Akaashi stepped out of his doorway and kissed her cheek. “Love you, too.”

She pecked his nose and reiterated that he shouldn’t be afraid to ask her if there was anything she could do. Then she walked down the hallway and descended the stairs without another look back. 

Akaashi closed the door, and was swallowed in the darkness of his room. He had to admit, even though that conversation didn’t solve anything, he did feel a bit better because of it. His mom was good like that.

Crawling back into bed, he enveloped himself in blankets again and shut his eyes. It was too early to actually go to sleep, but there wasn’t really anything he felt like doing. He could watch a show on his laptop, yeah, but he was sure he’d have trouble getting into it. 

But that option was better than moping alone in the dark, so he pulled his laptop under the covers with him, put on his headphones, and decided on some mindless tv to keep his mind off of the captain and his own personal feelings of inadequacy.

He had been watching old episodes of a sitcom he enjoyed for a couple hours. It was a personal favorite, and the predictability of the plot lines and the characters’ actions was soothing. Their issues were silly and easily-fixed, and it made his own problem feel the same. Silly and easily-fixed. Akaashi found himself laughing at a few of the jokes. 

At some point, he must have dozed off. Suddenly, the next thing he noticed was that the screen of his laptop was black, his phone was ringing loudly from his nightstand and he had a stale taste in his mouth.

A little disoriented, he dug himself out of his blanket cocoon and reached for his phone. He didn’t know what time it was, and he wasn’t quite awake yet to actually read the caller ID, but he answered it anyway, like an automatic reaction, and sunk back into the comfort of his bed.

“Hello?” He grumbled.

“Yoooooo.”

He had no idea who was on the other end. It wasn’t a voice he immediately recognized, and whomever it was seemed to be in a loud place with a lot of music and people having thunderous conversations. Akaashi rubbed at his eye and finally checked his phone screen. He rubbed his eyes again, harder, when he read the contact listed. It was Bokuto’s number, but it wasn’t Bokuto. And it was 2:16AM. 

What the fuck.

“Who’s this?” Akaashi interrogated, because he wasn’t quite awake enough to hang up like he would have normally.

“Akaashi, does our friendship mean nothing?” The person, whomever the fuck they were, was very loud and sounded very offended and also very, very intoxicated. Great.

“Why do you have Bokuto’s phone?”

“Why _wouldn’t_ Bokuto’s main brodacious bro, broski for life, bro-extraordinaire have his phone?”

Suddenly it clicked. _It was fucking Kuroo_. 

Those idiots were getting shit-faced together. Akaashi wasn’t even a little surprised.

“Kuroo, is he dead or something?” Akaashi sighed. This was probably just a standard drunk call, but when those two got together, weird stuff always happened. He could never be too careful, in all honesty.

“Finally! My heart broke in two for like a second, there.” The other boy snickered at his own remark. Then, it sounded like he turned away from the phone for a moment to say something (read: shout) to someone else. But in a flash he was back on the line, still laughing at his own reply. “And I asked for ya. Bokuto’s not dead.” And then the Nekoma captain started laughing more. “ _Not even close_.”

That didn’t sound reassuring at all. “Where even are you two?”

“A party.” Was the slurred response. “Nekoma Baseball.” 

“Why are you at a baseball party?”

“Because I’m friend’s with the short-stop and he told me I didn’t have to pay for booze. And they were inviting girls.” Kuroo’s giggles made him sound insane. “There’s so many girls. Oh my god, _so many girls_.”

“You’re drunk, don’t be stupid.”

Kuroo made a horrified noise. “First of all, do you think I’m an asshole?? Cuz I’m not. I’d never do anything like that. Two, I only made out with this one cutie and she said she only had like two shots, so it’s _fine_.”

“Don’t take advantage of drunk people.” Akaashi frowned.

“I swear, Akaashi, we didn’t do anything.”

“Really? You swear?”

Kuroo’s voice, devoid of giggles now, was barely a notch above a whisper. “You know I haven’t done anything passed kissing so _shut the fuck up and let me live_.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes, not that Kuroo could see, anyway. “Well, don’t start tonight when you can’t even walk straight.”

“How d’ya even know that I can’t walk?!”

“Drink some water and go home.” Akaashi rubbed at his eyes. This phone call was exhausting. But he couldn’t hang up just quite yet. “How’s Bokuto?”

Kuroo took a beat before he answered. “Did’ya guys have a fight or something?”

Akaashi tensed, feeling awake now. “ _Why?_ ”

“Dunno,” it sounded like he was pouting, “he’s just been kinda weird all night, and I was like, it’s probably Akaashi’s fault or something.”

Akaashi definitely wasn’t offended at that. Nope. “How was he acting weird?”

“He just didn’t seem like the bro I know and love.”

This was going nowhere. And as much as the setter dreaded it, there was only one other option to get actual answers. “Can I talk to him?”

“Um… not right now.” And then the drunk dork was giggling again.

Akaashi did not like the sound of that. “Why not?”

“He’s busy~”

“Doing _what_?”

“Sticking his tongue down this girl’s throat.” Then Kuroo lost it. He was wheezing he was cackling so much.

The way those words dropped like lead into his stomach made Akaashi anxious. And those words also made him want to go over to wherever the hell those idiots were and rip that one specific idiot away from that girl and tear him a new one.

And that thought made Akaashi even more anxious. 

“How drunk is he?” Akaashi eventually gritted out as Kuroo’s laughter died down.

“Uh… maybe worse than me?”

“Get him off her and give Bokuto the phone so I can yell at him.”

“Oooh,” Kuroo teased, “someone sounds jealous~”

“Shut up and get Bokuto to stop before he does something stupid.”

“Aye aye!” 

And then Akaashi didn’t hear Kuroo anymore, but just the raucous background noise of the party. It was a couple of minutes before he heard what most likely was a drunk Bokuto heatedly arguing with someone, and then another minute more before a loud sound (a slamming door?) and then immediately the roar of the party seemed to vanish.

“ _Akaashi?_ ”

Kuroo was right. Even from that one word, Bokuto sounded _off_. Very off, and very drunk.

“You know it’s not cool to do anything sexual when you’re drinking,” the setter scolded, “are you an idiot?”

“Akaashi, please, don’t yell at me.”

“Well don’t make dumbass decisions like that when you’re drunk!”

“She wasn’t drinking! I think!”

“That doesn’t make it any better! What if you did something you’d regret?”

Bokuto made this small whining noise. Then Akaashi heard something that sounded like shuffling before the captain said, his voice so small, “I didn’t even want to make out with her.”

Akaashi was so frustrated, he wanted to strangle him. “Then what the _fuck_ were you doing in the first place?”

Bokuto whined again. “I felt _lonely_.”

Akaashi closed his eyes and took a steadying breath before he responded. “Are you sure you don’t mean you were _horny_?” And there definitely wasn’t any bitterness in that question whatsoever.

“No!! I felt _lonely_. And I _still_ feel lonely.” 

Bokuto was slurring words left and right. Akaashi knew he wasn’t around anybody: Bokuto was either by himself in another room or was wandering alone outside, and that made Akaashi worry. The captain thrived off being with people, and when he was emotional or intoxicated or _god forbid both_ , being near others became a _need_ , and if that need wasn’t satisfied, it was just a matter of time before Bokuto self-destructed. “I just wanted to hold someone or something. And I was with Kuroo in the kitchen getting another beer, okay, and then all of a sudden she was touching my shoulder and she told me she _liked_ my hair. Then she was kissing me and told me she _wanted me_ and I was like _okay this is okay_ so we did, kissing we were kissing, but it just didn’t feel _right_.”

Bokuto was breathing heavily, and Akaashi didn’t know what to do or say. Everything that came to mind was mean and judgmental, but he didn’t want to say anything like that because he knew that wasn’t what Bokuto needed right now, and it wasn’t what he needed right now, either.

“Just,” Akaashi struggled, “don’t kiss drunk people.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m stupid.”

“Bokuto, c’mon -“

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Do you want me to come get you?” Akaashi asked, his voice wavering.

“No, you don’t deserve all this shit. I’m the worst person to you.” Bokuto’s voice cracked. 

Akaashi swallowed. “ _You’re not._ ” 

“I _am_.” Bokuto hiccuped, but kept babbling and slurring away. “Akaashi. I didn’t wanna kiss her.”

“I know. You said that already.”

“No, listen to me!” It was just Bokuto breathing, quick and clipped, for a moment before he said again, “I didn’t wanna kiss _her_.”

They were both silent after that. It was just Bokuto’s ragged breathing on the line.

_Oh._

Akaashi’s throat was too dry and tight. His fingers curled and balled into his blanket, because this was exactly what he had been afraid of. This was dangerous territory. Bokuto was saying things, and Akaashi wasn’t fighting back, and Akaashi was internalizing all of this _garbage_ and he was _agreeing_ with all these stupid, meaningless, misguided intoxicated words and this couldn’t happen because _none of this could happen_. _It couldn’t_.

Akaashi kept telling himself that everyday. Every single day this week. _It. Couldn’t. Happen._

And Bokuto should know that. He had too. But if he didn’t, he was gonna get told right now.

“It doesn’t matter who it is you kiss. It doesn’t mean _anything_.” 

“No, but it _does_ , Akaashi _please_ -“

“ _Just stop_.” And he hung up the phone and took a deep, steadying breath. Akaashi didn’t know if those last words had been about the conversation or about everything else.

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. 

But Akaashi still found himself texting Kuroo’s phone, asking for the address of the party so he could pick them both up. The reply came ten minutes later and Akaashi was pulling on his volleyball zip-up and quietly creeping down the stairs in his slippers, grabbed his keys, and hopped in the car hopefully without waking his parents.

“It can’t happen,” he mouthed the words silently to himself as he backed out of his driveway. 

_It can’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaand it was only a matter of time before i added the 'underage drinking' tag to this piece.
> 
> also this came out so much more dramatic than i planned??? _why does this keep happening_
> 
> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	7. ...Or Could We?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t even know what this is. 
> 
> shoutout to [skittidyne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/skittidyne/pseuds/skittidyne) for making this a lot less sad than it originally was gonna be.

When Akaashi pulled up to the address Kuroo had texted him, he instantly knew it was the right house.

It was the only structure along the entire length of the sleepy, pitch-black street that was exhibiting any signs of life at this early hour. Every window in the average-sized house was illuminated with buzzing energy not visible anywhere else in the neighborhood. Various bodies could be seen moving through the glass, each squared-in scene like a distinct, colorful movie. And all of them combined together, along with every scene hidden within the house produced a tireless, massive roar. Music thrummed in the air with the bass setting made aggressively heavy. Even over the loud music, loud enough that you could _feel_ it, the screamed conversations and screeching laughter were still distinguishable in the clamor. 

And it was almost 3 AM. It was a wonder the police had’t already busted this party. Akaashi wanted to get those two jackasses out of this ticking-time bomb before it exploded and marked both their records with an alcohol violation.

Akaashi put his small grey sedan in _park_ in front of the house. In the dark he blindly searched for his phone and eventually found it in the passenger seat. He then immediately opened a group chat with him, Kuroo and Bokuto and sent them a text.

_> >i’m out front to take you guys home_

He waited five minutes for a response. As he woefully expected, he didn’t get one. They definitely wouldn’t answer a call either. So there was only one other option. 

There was no logical reason why he’d just wait in his dark car for however-fucking-long it took until they finally checked their phones. Instead, he turned off his car and hopped out. He followed the pathway through the center of the lawn and then straight into the house. The door was open, of course. Drunk high schoolers weren’t that smart.

Akaashi was thankful this was a Nekoma party, because he was wearing his mismatched pajamas and slippers. Plus, his lips were really chapped (and that bothered him more than it probably should). But the good thing was, none of these people knew him. And none of them would be sober enough to recognize him if they ever saw him again. There wouldn’t be any of that _woah is that the weirdo that crashed the party and dragged those two dudes out??_. Thank god. He ran into that way too often at Fukurodani parties.

The overwhelming commingled smell of stale beer, superabundant perfume and cologne, body odor and marijuana smoke assaulted Akaashi’s nostrils. _Disgusting_. He wrinkled his nose and tried to squish through the crowd while breathing exclusively through his mouth, and praying that he wouldn’t get a contact high. 

It was like he was half-invisible. Most of the people didn’t notice an awkward boy elbowing past them, and the half that did notice him, weren’t really _seeing_ him with their inebriated, hazy stares. It was half reassuring, and half not so much. They wouldn’t remember him, which was an obvious perk, but on the other hand, they probably wouldn’t be any help in locating the two volleyball captains. 

Ugh.

Not that he had any control over who he’d find first but Akaashi really wanted it to be Kuroo. The Nekoma captain was a notoriously-easy-going and super positive drunk. Kuroo was never a problem at parties. He usually stayed in one place, content just showering whomever he was talking to with uncomfortable multitudes of ridiculous compliments, hugs and smiles. He was a great listener, too. From Akaashi’s experience, if Kuroo was told to do something he’d do it without any hesitation. Go to bed? Kuroo would do it. Drink some water? Kuroo would do it. Take off his shirt so people could feel his abs? He’d do it (and had). 

So, if Akaashi came across him and nicely requested that he go wait in the car while he went to go find Bokuto, Kuroo would do exactly that. And probably even would fall asleep in the car. While Kuroo slept like the obedient boy he was, Akaashi would search for the _actual_ troublemaker. 

Either because he was exhausted or because he got too wrapped up in his own musings, Akaashi collided with a girl in a tight black dress and her dark red drink spilled onto his shirt. He began apologizing, and mid-sentence, with this tragic look on her face she walked away wordlessly to retrieve a new drink. 

Akaashi’s jaw clenched. Rude. And this definitely was going to stain, too. But he didn’t have the time to find the bathroom to wash it out. He had to find his friends before the cops showed up, because it was inevitable that they would with how disruptive this was. With another frown at his shirt, he really _liked_ that shirt, he continued his search.

He checked all the rooms on the ground floor, but to no avail. He didn’t see any sign of either captain, but he _did_ stumble across plenty of _discrete_ make out sessions, one poorly-hidden attempt at a hand job in the corner of the kitchen, and at least one quickly-escalating argument about something that wasn’t the least bit important. All of it was pretty entertaining, but it was not what he was looking for at the moment. 

Akaashi still had yet to check the basement, the second floor or anywhere outside. He inhaled stale air into his lungs through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. Alright. He zig-zagged through what he was sure was a clump of Nekoma baseball players to the stairs to start on the second story of the house.

Akaashi climbed the stairs, where there was even more people, and narrowly avoided someone’s beer from knocking into him. He practically reached the top, which required way more concentration and time than it should have, when someone tall, in a black cut-off that read _Ball Is Love, Ball is Life_ blocked his way. Akaashi immediately recognized the perpetual bedhead, lazy grin and the awful taste in party clothes.

“Akaashi~” Kuroo sang.

“Ready to leave?” Akaashi tried to push Kuroo away so he didn’t have to speak with him at such an awkward angle, but the captain wouldn’t budge. He just giggled as Akaashi shoved uselessly at his stomach.

“That tickles, dude.”

“Just move.” Akaashi rolled his eyes. “And where’s Bokuto?”

“Yo, fuck Bokuto! Check _this_ out!” Kuroo’s eyes instantaneously brightened. He angled his head away and pointed excitedly to a spot on his neck. 

Akaashi narrowed his eyes, because Kuroo was covered in shadows because of his position below him on the stairs, so it took a moment before he could see what the captain was pointing at. It was a small, purple bruise halfway down his jugular. 

“A _hickey_!! Rad, right?!”

There was something with how Kuroo’s eyes twinkled that made Akaashi not want to be so unfriendly to and dismissive with the drunk boy. Kuroo was his friend after all, too. “Is that your first one?”

Kuroo looked so pleased with himself. “ _Fuck yeah._ ”

“Cool.” Akaashi sat down on the steps, leaning against the wall. When Kuroo sat down on the stairs, too, the setter inwardly patted himself on the back. Drunk Kuroo was so easy to manipulate. 

Kuroo leaning against the wall, rubbed at his neck lovingly. “I can’t wait to show Kenma. He’s gonna be so proud…”

“Is he?”

“He’s always making these comments about how I’m too awkward for sexy stuff. This’ll show him!”

“He’s gonna be _proud_?”

“Yeah… maybe? I dunno. Probably.”

Akaashi pursed his lips and decided to change the subject. He could only dwell on one complicated relationship at once, and it wasn’t the Kenma-Kuroo one’s turn. “Did you drink any water?”

Kuroo nodded. 

“Good. Do you have to pee before we go?”

The other boy’s face drew into concentration. Akaashi didn’t drink for a couple of reasons, and this was a perfect example of one of them. He preferred to not think so hard about whether or not he had to use the bathroom. After a moment, Kuroo mumbled, “Yeah…”

“Okay. Go. And when you’re done, go outside and wait in my car. It’s open. I’m gonna go find Bokuto.” Akaashi stood up. “Do you know where he is?”

“Um… I brought him outside when you called…” Kuroo moved his tongue inside his mouth as he thought. “I don’t know if he ever came back inside.”

Akaashi held back the urge to scold him for not taking better care of his drunk friends. Instead, he clapped Kuroo on the shoulder and said, “I’ll see you in a bit,” and headed down the stairs as Kuroo saluted him and went off down the hall towards (hopefully) the bathroom.

Pushing past more rowdy teens, Akaashi found it was a lot easier to get out of the crowd than it was getting into it. He was out the door and outside in record time. He took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp freshness of the nighttime air with no gross party smells poisoning his lungs. It felt good.

Okay. There was a good chance Bokuto was still outside. From what he couldn’t see, there wasn’t anyone out here, in the front yard at least. It probably was the same in the backyard, as well. Without people around, a drunk Bokuto could be found curling up in a ball and going to sleep, too tired to deal with the stress of being alone.

Akaashi investigated behind bushes and trees and scanned the sides of the house. After no success in the front he decided to venture into the back. Akaashi’s hypothesis had been correct: the backyard was just as desolate. It was twice the size and fenced in with a couple of trees and dark. Very dark. There was a single light near the back door that was on, with a swarm of mouths and other bugs fluttering around it but other than that the yard was pretty lifeless. If Bokuto was out here, he wouldn’t be doing well.

Akaashi turned his phone’s flashlight on and started his search. He was tracing the perimeter of the fence where a couple of trees haphazardly grew from the earth, only finding weeds and flowers and a few spiders building their webs. And no Bokuto. 

Maybe he did wander back inside after all. Bokuto was probably comfortable, surrounding himself with talkative people, having an obnoxious conversation about video games or sports. Or, maybe he was back with that girl and had his mouth back against that girl’s…

Akaashi clenched his fingers. Even if Bokuto was doing _that_ , _it didn’t matter_. It’s not like they were dating. Bokuto wasn’t his, and he never would be. _And that was as it should be._ Akaashi’s free hand balled into a fist. _Exactly as it should be_.

“ _Kuroo?_ ”

Akaashi froze. That was definitely Bokuto’s voice. But where was it coming from?

“ _I wanna go home…_ ”

It was coming from behind him somewhere. Akaashi turned on his heel and searched near the tree he just passed, and lo and behold, Bokuto was on the ground. His arms were hugging his chest and his head rested against the tree trunk. He looked pale and was shivering. It was a bit cold out, and upon closer inspection it seemed that Bokuto _apparently took off his shirt at some point and was sitting outside alone without anything on his chest._

Of course.

Akaashi bit back his reprimanding instinct again and instead squatted down next to the captain, pointing the flashlight down so it wouldn’t blind Bokuto. “I’m taking you home.”

Bokuto straightened his head and squinted his eyes, trying to figure out who it was as he adjusted to the light. Then, incredulously asked, “…Akaashi?”

“Mhm. Kuroo’s waiting for us in my car.”

Bokuto recovered from his surprise and then looked away, tightening his hold on himself. “No. You’re gonna yell at me again…”

Akaashi had a feeling this wasn’t going to be easy. “No, I’m not.”

The captain dropped his head to his chest and whined out, “You’re lying. _You hate me._ ” 

“I don’t hate you,” Akaashi sighed.

“ _You do_!!”

“No, I don’t.” If this continued, they’d be talking in circles all night. “We’ll discuss this later. Can we go home?”

Bokuto just buried his face in his hands and didn’t reply.

Akaashi closed his eyes. Bokuto was the troublemaker, alright. But, luckily, the setter had plenty of experience dealing with him. However, with how uncertain and miserable he had been feeling lately, Akaashi didn’t really feel all that comfortable or confident in his ability to coax Bokuto out of his pit of negativity… 

But they couldn’t stay out here forever. And Akaashi was starting to feel a little chilly, so he could only imagine how freezing Bokuto felt. The idiot probably was catching a cold right now.

Akaashi knew he had to take action. Even if that action made his stomach warm up and his fingers shake. He reached out and began running his fingers through Bokuto’s hair. Bokuto stiffened at the contact, and unsuccessfully attempted to squirm away from the touch. 

“Can we go home?” Akaashi asked again, voice as soft as his fingers threading through the silent captain’s locks. “Please, Bokuto?”

The captain peered through his hands, and even in the darkness Akaashi could tell that his eyes were watery with unshed tears. “…I’m sorry I kissed her.”

Akaashi’s pulse shuddered and his hand stopped in Bokuto’s hair. He tried to ignore that comment and how it made everything feel so much more complicated, so much more painful. When he spoke next, he inwardly cringed at how stiff his voice sounded, “Where’s your shirt?”

“I don’t know.” Bokuto swallowed, his own words sounding constricted.

“Did you come out here without it?”

“Don’t remember.” And Bokuto covered his face again and sniffled. 

Akaashi ran his thumb up and down behind Bokuto’s ear. That usually got him to relax. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. Let’s just go. It’s cold out here.”

“Why’re you here?” Bokuto blurted, voice muffled in his hands.

“Because I care about you.” Akaashi answered the question too quickly. He was slightly terrified at his answer and how it just slipped out, so _easily_ and _genuine_. What if something _worse_ had slipped out of his mouth? 

Bokuto made a noise in the back of his throat but still hid behind his hands. That wasn’t reassuring in the least.

Akaashi stood up, hoping this mirroring tactic would work on Bokuto, too. “Let’s go.”

“I won’t kiss anyone ever again.” Bokuto wasn’t listening and he continued to mumble, sounding more emotional with each syllable.

“Stop. You’re gonna get sick out here.”

“Akaashi.” Bokuto kept talking into his hands, and he sounded like he was holding his breath when he choked out, “I wanna kiss _you_.”

Akaashi bit his lip. _Please, not now._

“I wanna kiss you. We never kissed before. I wanna do that.”

“Bokuto. _C’mon_.”

The captain looked up finally, and Akaashi saw that his face was shiny from his tears that he smeared across his cheeks. Bokuto’s eyes were wide, and there was something in them that was so _hopeful_ and _raw_ that it made Akaashi’s fingers shake. “I wanna kiss you _so much_.”

Akaashi was having trouble speaking.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” Bokuto urged.

The setter stiffened. He brought his hand away from Bokuto’s head and swallowed. “ _Let’s go._ ”

Bokuto brought his knees closer to his chest, and he cocked his head to the side, that look still in his eyes. “I think about kissing you all the time. We fucked up. We did all that other stuff before we even kissed.” Bokuto laughed, but it didn’t sound right. “We’re dumb, Akaashi.”

“We’ll talk about this later. When you’re _sober_. Let’s go before Kuroo does something stupid in my car.” Akaashi took a step away, trying to end this conversation as quickly as possible.

“ _I like you so much, Akaashi_.”

Akaashi’s fingernails dug into his palm. _Fuck fuck fuck._ “Get up now or I’m dragging you.”

“Kiss me first.”

“ _No_.”

“But I wanna kiss you.”

“I said _no_. Get up.”

Bokuto stared at him for a long moment. It was intense, and it made Akaashi want to shrink away, drive home, and hide under his covers again, away from all of this. Away from Bokuto.

But then Bokuto’s lips parted, and he whimpered, “…you don’t wanna kiss me.” and then everything went to _shit_. Bokuto started to legitimately cry, the kind of crying that was all hiccups and pathetic sounds and lots of ugly tears.

Akaashi had seen Bokuto cry before. But he had never seen him cry like _this_.

This wasn’t good. He couldn’t exactly call Kuroo for backup. So how was he gonna get Bokuto to the car?

But Bokuto was all of a sudden standing up, and trying to hide his face into the crook of his elbow. Akaashi’s stomach felt like it was full of lead. He felt guilty and overwhelmed, and it only worsened when Bokuto, refusing to look at him, grabbed at the sleeve of his zip-up and pulled lightly. “I like you so much and you don’t like me.”

_You’re so fucking wrong, you idiot. You have no idea._

Akaashi wasn’t thinking when he pulled Bokuto in for a hug. He circled his arms around his bare torso and held Bokuto against him. This was too much. He couldn’t have this fight right now. In all honesty, he couldn’t have this fight _ever_. It was unbearable having Bokuto spouting all this nonsense when he literally had no idea what he was talking about. (And in the back of his mind, Akaashi knew this was the exact same shit he had put Bokuto through all week). 

He was too exhausted and emotionally-strung out and there seemed to not be enough oxygen in his lungs. He felt vulnerable. More vulnerable than he had let himself feel in a long, long time. But, having his composure break down like this in from of Bokuto wasn’t the end of the world. It was better him than anyone else.

Akaashi rubbed circles into Bokuto’s naked back, and he could feel the captain shake in the hold. He was shaking, too.

“Let’s go home, okay?” Akaashi whispered into his ear after a while.

“Fine.” was the hiccuped response.

And they broke apart. Akaashi swallowed the emotion back down inside himself, and then guided his stumbling, crying friend back to his car.

Kuroo, as expected, was fast asleep in the back, taking up all three seats. Akaashi wasn’t surprised. As quietly as he could, he got Bokuto into the passenger seat and himself in the driver’s seat without slamming either door, and started to drive away from the still raging party and bring the captains both home.

Most of the drive was spent shushing Bokuto, who was still fragile and far too drunk to not be asking every other minute if Akaashi hated him. He probably told Bokuto that he didn’t hate him at least twenty times before he pulled up to Kuroo’s house. 

He twisted in his seat and woke up Kuroo with a pat on his thigh. The Nekoma captain slowly blinked awake. Disoriented and yawning, he thanked the two up front and managed to get out of the car and shuffled to his front door and sneaked inside.

Akaashi didn’t drive away immediately after Kuroo got inside. Instead, he turned to look at Bokuto, who was entranced at the sky through the windshield. “I’m taking you home now.”

Bokuto shrugged his shoulders and turned away from the stars. “No.”

“You need to go to bed.”

“But… I’ll be lonely again.”

“You sleep in your room every night alone. You’ll be fine.”

Bokuto whined. “Please don’t.”

“Bokuto there’s nothing wrong with your house.” Akaashi put the car in _drive_ and headed down the street. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

A hand grabbed his bicep and Akaashi was about to yell at him for manhandling him while he was driving when Bokuto asked quietly, “Sleep with me.”

Akaashi ’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “If I’m not gonna kiss you right now, I’m _definitely not_ going to -“

“No!” Bokuto leaned over and rested his head against the setter’s shoulder. “Just sleep.”

Akaashi stayed quiet.

“Please.”

All his resolve was breaking. It was past 3AM, and every feeling of regret and anxiety had worn him thin throughout the week, worn through bone and nerve and muscle. Akaashi felt so empty: he could feel his pulse in his fingertips and toes like his entire being was completely hollow except for his heartbeat. Bokuto could probably feel it, too; that hollow pulse.

And he wanted to feel Bokuto’s. He wanted the captain’s heartbeat flush against him, feel it accelerate when something amazed him and slow as he drifted off to sleep. And yet, Akaashi wanted more than just Bokuto’s pulse. He wanted Bokuto’s breath exhaling over the back of his neck, his calloused hands winding around him safe and secure and _close_ , his legs tangling between his own. He wanted that.

He wanted that all the time.

Akaashi licked his bottom lip and didn’t take his eyes off the road. Then he did something selfish. “We’ll go to my house.”

Bokuto didn’t say anything. He just kissed Akaashi’s shoulder and snuggled as close as he could to him with a small whispered _thank you_ that made Akaashi’s mouth go dry and his heart thud harder.

This was a terrible idea. He was doing the worst thing he could possibly do. What would his parents say in the morning when they discovered a shirtless boy in bed with their son? Is he from school? Is he from volleyball? Where did he come from? And why does he smell like a dive bar? 

But Akaashi’s questions to himself tomorrow morning would be even more relevant. _Why are you letting him get so close to you? Last time I checked, friends with benefits don’t sleep together like this. They sleep together, yeah, but they don’t actually sleep._

This is what people in a relationship that meant so much more than casual sex did. And this was… Akaashi had no _fucking clue_ what this even was anymore. Whatever it was, it wasn’t sustainable or good. This wasn’t going to solve anything. They’d both still end up sad. Because it _couldn’t happen_. 

Bokuto would be graduating at the end of the year. He’d go to college, leave the volleyball team, leave _him_. And, more importantly, Akaashi couldn’t even make the captain _happy_. He couldn’t. He was more complicated to deal with, unfit for a romantic relationship… and yet, here he was. Feeling way more than he said either of them should.

Someone was gonna get hurt. 

But, at the moment, in his car with Bokuto mumbling sweet slurred things against his shoulder, he didn’t care.

Akaashi eventually reached his house and pulled into the driveway. Bokuto had fallen asleep at some point. Akaashi allowed himself to brush through Bokuto’s hair for a moment, gentle and affectionate and private. But he had to wake the captain up because they couldn’t sleep in his car. 

The setter gave Bokuto a little shove, and slowly helped him wake up enough to climb out of the car. Akaashi shushed him as they snuck into his house, locked the door. He shushed him again as they tried to covertly creep up the stairs to the setter’s room without disturbing his parents who had gone to bed hours ago.

When they got into Akaashi’s bedroom, the first thing Bokuto did was start to take off his shoes and pants. Akaashi just rolled his eyes as he shushed him once more and left the room. Akaashi came back a minute later, even more aware of how _awful_ of an idea that this was, when he told Bokuto he had left a new toothbrush and towel out for him in the bathroom, to brush his teeth and possibly shower if he so desired.

Bokuto, in just his boxers, had his tired eyes glittering. He attempted to press his lips to Akaashi’s as a thank you, but the setter averted him easily. Their first kiss wouldn’t be like this, Akaashi inwardly promised himself. And then he felt himself flush when he realized he was _thinking about kissing Bokuto in a meaningful way_.

But the captain was too delirious to notice Akaashi’s red face. With a pout and a few drunken slurs that the setter couldn’t really decipher, Bokuto wobbled out towards the bathroom. 

Akaashi took off his jacket and changed his stained shirt. Then he found himself walking downstairs to get Bokuto a glass of water. He felt slightly disturbed. He blamed all of this on his sleep deprivation.

When he got back upstairs Bokuto was unceremoniously sprawled on his bed. He’d shower tomorrow, apparently.

Akaashi sat down on the edge of his mattress and shook Bokuto’s shoulder. “Drink this.”

A muffled, sleepy babble was the reply.

“Idiot, just do it.”

And after some pulling and a little struggle, Bokuto finally sat up and drank the water, chugging the whole thing in one go. Rolling his eyes, Akaashi took the empty glass from him and put it on his nightstand. And Bokuto gave him a peace sign, and Akaashi suddenly had the urge to make him sleep on the floor.

But, he didn’t make him move. He got up to close his door and shut off the light as Bokuto snickered to himself and lied back down. Akaashi had to maneuver the captain’s limbs around until the both of them were under the covers, awkwardly facing the ceiling.

It was quiet for a moment, just the crickets chirping relentlessly outside the window. Bokuto was the one to break the silence. In an excited whisper and a grab of Akaashi’s sleeve under the blanket, “We’re having a sleepover.”

Akaashi turned his head to frown at Bokuto in the dark, “Because you’d probably wake up your whole family if I left you at your house. And then you’d be grounded. Again.”

“Nuh-uh!” Bokuto pouted and rolled closer to Akaashi. “ _I’m not even drunk_.”

“Alright, sure.”

“Can I hug you?”

Akaashi was thankful that it was dark, because he felt his face heating up again. “…Go to sleep.”

“Please? I won’t try to kiss you this time.”

“Bokuto. Sleep.”

“ _Akaashiiiiiiiiiiiiiii._ ”

“Fine,” Akaashi relented far too quickly than he would’ve liked. He justified that in his mind because he wanted Bokuto sleeping on his side. He didn’t want him choking on his own vomit in the middle of the night. Akaashi also didn’t want to get vomited on in his sleep, but he wanted Bokuto dying to happen even less. So.

Akaashi turned to face away from the captain, and he felt Bokuto crawl closer to him, the mattress creaking with the shift in weight. Akaashi’s breath hitched when Bokuto giggled and placed a quick open-mouthed kiss to his neck, which made the setter shiver and almost roll of his queen-sized bed. 

Bokuto’s arms twined themselves around Akaashi’s torso, and the setter tensed. Bokuto’s body heat was seeping into him easily and naturally, his breathing fanned against the nape of his neck, and those big hands of his were resting a little too casually over one of his breasts.

Of course.

Akaashi, not really mad, brought the bold hand lower to rest against his stomach, not saying a word.

Bokuto just nuzzled closer into Akaashi, and the setter started to caress Bokuto’s right arm, up and down, gently. He wanted to punch himself for that, but Bokuto was humming more and whispering his name before his breath started to even out. 

Yeah, Akaashi thought as he closed his own eyes, leaning back into Bokuto’s chest to cuddle closer, he’d hate himself in the morning. But right now, he was okay with this. He was very okay with this.

And the first night all week, he slept easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	8. It's Okay to Do This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this was like therapy

When Akaashi first woke up, he didn’t find the fact that he had his entire bed to himself alarming.

He rolled over, half-awake and sandwiched some pillows between his cheek and arms. The fabric was ghostly warm, which to Akaashi’s still-sleepy brain was comforting rather than strange. And the pillows smelled good, too. It was foreign, faintly like cologne, and Akaashi curled into the pillow and pressed his face into it and sighed because it was nice. Akaashi wanted to drift back to sleep just breathing it in…

But drifting back off was a lot more difficult than it should’ve been. Gradually the setter was gaining full consciousness. The sensory information his drowsy brain was receiving was suddenly having thoughts processing them: the warmth, the smell. 

That’s when he became alarmed.

Akaashi bolted upright away from the pillows and blinked around at the emptiness of his bed.

His stomach felt like it was dropping inside him, heavy and burdening and downright unpleasant. That feeling moved like molasses through his bones, slow and viscous and sickening, carrying every insecurity that Akaashi had warned himself against last night. He reached a hesitant hand against the spot on the mattress and smoothed the space of wrinkled sheets that definitely hadn’t been empty the night before.

_Bokuto…_

Akaashi exhaled slowly, attempting to drain all that weight from himself and trying to come to terms with this massive disappointment. Why was he exactly disappointed? This was supposed to be a lucky break, a blessing from above to save him from his poor judgment last night. This was just another sign. He and Bokuto weren’t possible, compatible, just wouldn’t last. So, really, the captain not being here was a good thing. Maybe that idiot had finally come to his senses. Definitely. Good riddance.

But why did it hurt? Why did it feel like a betrayal?

Akaashi closed his eyes and brought the pillow to his face again, inhaling what remained of Bokuto’s presence. He didn’t have the strength to get angry at himself right now, he just allowed himself to breathe.

And then there was a knock on his door.

Akaashi removed himself a little too quickly from the pillow, looking like a guilty person just caught committing a crime. But then a teensy bit of hope sparked in his gut. He sat upright, and called out, voice groggy from disuse and sleep and just a bit nervous, “Come in!”

When his mom walked in, he felt terrible for feeling so disappointed.

“Hi,” he greeted weakly.

She didn’t say anything at first, which was odd. Akaashi looked at her quizzically and she remained silent, just looking back at him with an unreadable look.

“Mom?”

“Do you know why there’s some strange boy vomiting in the bathroom?” She posed the question as casually as if she was asking him what he wanted for dinner.

Akaashi could only gaped at her, for a lot of reasons. Bokuto was still here. He was just sick. He was sick…? His mom found him, who clearly hadn’t been here when she went to bed, in the house. Was she mad? Was his dad mad? Did she think he had been getting into trouble last night? Did she think he was drinking or doing drugs? But who cares because _Bokuto was still here._

“Well?” She put a hand onto her hip, waiting for an answer.

“Um.” Akaashi was trying so hard not be so _fucking_ relieved that he couldn’t formulate any words.

She crossed her arms over his chest and shot him a pointed look, not quite angry but definitely impatient.

Akaashi rubbed at his eyes and took a deep breath before saying, not meeting her eyes because he didn’t want her to see just how anxiously _happy_ he was, “I had to pick him up from a party last night. And he just… ended up staying over.”

“Is he from volleyball?”

“Yeah, he’s the captain.”

“Ah.” She said and sat down next to him. He noticed that she had changed out of her pajamas and into real clothes. Akaashi quickly glanced at his phone, plugged in and charging on his nightstand. 11:03AM. Dammit, he had slept in later than usual. He sure was acting awfully suspicious… He gave her an apologetic look, but for some unfathomable reason she didn’t look angry at him. Instead she wrapped her arms around him and rested her cheek on his shoulder and Akaashi closed his eyes and leaned back into her. 

“I assume he had a little too much fun last night?” She asked bemusedly. 

Akaashi just shrugged. 

“You didn’t drink and drive… right?”

“Mom, no.” Akaashi groaned, embarrassed. “I don’t even _drink_.”

“I know, I know. I’m a mom, I have to ask.”

Akaashi sighed and asked after a moment of just listening to her breathe. “Is he okay?”

She clicked her tongue, clearly not all-too-thrilled with her coming answer. “Well, from outside the door he sounded like he was on his deathbed.” 

She readjusted her hold around his waist when she heard his breath hitch and continued on with her story. “So I went in, because I thought it was _you_. But then, I did, and I could clearly see it _wasn’t_ you, it was a half-naked stranger. And so, I asked him who he was and how he got in our house! Which I didn’t think was out of line. And then he looked up from the toilet and I swear he was about to _cry_. He kept saying he was so sorry and that _you_ were going to kill him and never speak to him ever again and all of these very dramatic things. And then he did start crying… So I figured that I didn’t have to call the police after all.”

Akaashi groaned. This was painful to listen to.

“And then,” she continued her voice lilting in amusement, “he said he’d clean up any mess he made and that, and I quote, _don’t blame Akaashi for this it’s all my fault I’m so sorry_ and then started to dry heave and then I just left. And now I’m here.”

Akaashi didn’t know why he found this story both so agonizing and yet so endearing. “That sounds like Bokuto, alright.”

“Oh, _that’s_ Bokuto!” She exclaimed, putting pieces together in her head.

“Sadly.”

She kissed his cheek. “Even if he is a…. delinquent, he seems like a good kid.”

“Eh.”

She sounded smug when she said, “You sound like you _are_ gonna kill him.”

“One of these days, maybe.”

She laughed. “I’m going to make some of those waffles for you two. And some painkillers and water for him. And then I’m going to take your father grocery shopping with me so he doesn’t notice a strange boy throwing up in our bathroom. And hopefully when we come back, it won’t seem so bizarre that he’s here.”

Akaashi turned his head to catch her eye, feeling absolutely floored. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She kissed under his eye and Akaashi smiled. “And in return you’re going to do the dishes and laundry tonight.” 

Akaashi’s smile faltered a bit. “Okay.”

“And he better keep his word about cleaning up that bathroom.” She teased before going downstairs to make them breakfast. “Tell him I’m a really strict, mean woman. Instill some fear in him for me.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Sure, mom.”

She winked at him before leaving the room. 

When she was gone, Akaashi as unobviously as possible jumped out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. His mom almost knew too much already, and he didn’t want her becoming more suspicious and then asking him even _worse_ questions… 

But as he got halfway down the hall the bathroom door opened and out trudged a very sickly and miserable looking Bokuto.

“I’m never drinking again.” He moaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“You say that every time.” Akaashi deadpanned.

“Yeah, but this time I _mean it_.”

“I’m holding you to it.” Akaashi quipped. Bokuto just stood there massaging his eyes, so Akaashi furthered, trying to lighten the captain’s spirits, “My mom’s making us food.”

Bokuto just groaned again. 

Okay, maybe bringing up food right now wasn’t such a good idea.

“And she’s bringing you medicine and some water.”

Bokuto peeked at Akaashi through his hands. “Is she going to murder me?”

“Only if you didn’t clean up the bathroom.”

“Dude, _I did_! I used those wipes under the sink. I didn’t even puke on anything, but I cleaned everything anyway! Is that okay?”

Akaashi bit the inside of his cheek. Here it was again, that same emotion of embarrassment and fondness flooding through him. He didn’t even try to stop himself when he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Bokuto’s middle.

He spooned with the idiot last night. There wasn’t anymore damage that he could really do.

A startled noise left the captain’s throat, and Akaashi smacked his back in retaliation because for some reason that noise made him feel _offended_. 

“Idiot, this is a hug. I’m not gonna kill you.”

“Wait…you’re hugging me?” He sounded terrified.

“Fine, I won’t.” Akaashi removed himself from Bokuto’s chest, albeit very reluctantly. The setter refused to make eye contact because he knew he looked flustered because he felt _really fucking flustered_. He didn’t even know why he was hugging Bokuto in the first place (yes he did, why did he keep lying to himself??). “I’m just gonna use the bathroom…”

“Akaashi…” Bokuto tried to grab his arm but Akaashi weaseled away just in time. 

“Just wait in my room. I’ll be out in a minute.”

The last thing he saw Bokuto do was nod dumbly and walk away as he closed the door.

Akaashi did what he needed to do. Peed, saw he had gotten his period, cursed under his breath at the timing ( _he told his brain to shut the fuck up_ ) and put in a tampon, washed his hands and face, brushed his teeth, mouthwashed. The usual. 

He gave himself a long and hard look in the mirror. Dark circles, messy bedhead and this naive look in his eyes. Ugh. What the hell was he doing? His mom was making them breakfast. Bokuto just cleaned his bathroom (which he actually did a stellar job at, surprisingly). He hugged Bokuto. Bokuto was waiting in his room for him. And all of this because Akaashi was fucking _weak_.

He frowned at himself. He should be better than this.

But he realized he didn’t want to be.

And then he walked out of the bathroom and went back to his room. 

As expected, Bokuto had made himself at home. The captain was in his bed under the covers, chewing gingerly on a waffle. His mom must have brought everything up already. Huh. Akaashi closed his door, wondering briefly if he should lock it but then told himself to _fucking stop_ and then grabbed his own waffle and took a very frazzled bite. They were still warm.

“Your mom’s nice.” Bokuto said through a mouthful.

Akaashi just nodded and stayed put.

“She asked me if I texted my parents to let me know where I was. My phone’s dead, so I used yours.” Bokuto swallowed the waffle in his mouth. “Oh, and I texted Kuroo. He’s not even hungover, that _ass_.”

Akaashi smiled.

Bokuto then added tentatively, with a forced-casual look on his face that Akaashi did not miss. “She said I should come over more often.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” A mischievous look was blossoming on Bokuto’s face. 

Akaashi rolled his eyes. He felt it necessary to knock the captain down a peg before he let all of that get to his head. “She called you a delinquent.”

Bokuto squawked and dropped the half-eaten waffle onto the bed to which Akaashi wrinkled his nose. “She said that?!”

Akaashi plucked the waffle off the blanket and put it back down on Bokuto’s plate before sitting down beside him. “Mhm.”

“ _Why??_ ”

“Because you’re clearly hungover?”

Absolute horror flashed in his eyes. “Wait… did you tell her I drink?”

Akaashi expressionlessly took another bite of his waffle. “I didn’t have to. And it’s not like she cares.”

Bokuto inched closer to Akaashi, an air of foreboding traveling with him. “…is she going to call my parents?”

Akaashi stopped chewing and narrowed his eyes. Bokuto stared, breath held until Akaashi shook his head. Dramatically he sighed in relief and rested his head against Akaashi’s shoulder.

“ _I love your mom._ ”

Akaashi nodded, because he did too. A lot. 

They ate in silence for a couple of moments. Then Bokuto mumbled quietly. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

Akaashi shrugged his shoulders. “It’s okay.” Because saying it wasn’t would just make things worse.

“But it’s not.” And then suddenly it was.

“Bokuto, don’t worry-“

“I probably said _things_ to you… didn’t I?”

Akaashi’s eyes widened and his mouth parted. That was not good. “…you don’t remember?”

“Kinda…” Bokuto bit his lip and fidgeted with his hands, ashamed. “I remember some things…like me telling you about kissing that girl.”

“Yeah.” Akaashi nodded.

“And that I cried because you wouldn’t kiss me.”

Akaashi grimaced.

“And… some other stuff…” Bokuto’s voice got eerily quiet and trailed off.

Akaashi knew exactly what the _some other stuff_ was in the way Bokuto averted his eyes and chewed the inside of his cheek.

Why was he being so kind right now? Akaashi reached out and touched Bokuto’s shoulder and squeezed. Bokuto stiffened, and Akaashi mumbled, feeling just as awkward as Bokuto did, “Yeah… you did.” 

Because what else could he say?

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, but it’s not…”

“Bokuto, shut up.” Akaashi exasperatedly rubbed at the other’s shoulder. Bokuto met Akaashi’s eyes then and instantly his worried face relaxed. Akaashi assumed it was because his face was probably not displaying the expression Bokuto was expecting to see. “I said it’s _fine_.”

Bokuto fingers were in his lap, clasped together so hard his knuckles were going white. Akaashi noticed that tension climbing up the captain’s arms, how it made his muscles and veins prominent along his skin. Putting his free hand on top of the interlocked fingers, Akaashi stroked them, trying to get him to relax. Because he didn’t need to be nervous. 

Akaashi was the nervous one, here.

“Hey.” Bokuto’s voice wavered, looking down at their hands and then back up at Akaashi’s face, “…I wanna…”

Heat pooled in the setter’s belly. He wanted to, too. But now wasn’t the right time.

_Why did he suddenly care about their being a right time?_

“No.” Akaashi said, smirking to cover his own want. “You just threw up.”

Bokuto exhaled, but he seemed to understand. But then Bokuto looked _shy_ and started to speak, but he was whispering and Akaashi had to strain his ears to make out what he was actually saying. “But.. if I didn’t just throw up…”

“Yeah, you could.” Akaashi shrugged his shoulders again, now himself feeling shy, and Bokuto made this noise in the back of his throat that made even more heat fill up his gut.

“I wanna touch you.” 

Bokuto breathed, and let his hands separate, _finally_ , and began to trace up and down Akaashi’s forearms.

“You are, though.” Akaashi replied, his voice lower in his register than normal. He cleared his throat when Bokuto met his eyes, because Bokuto noticed that Akaashi wanted more too. But Akaashi didn’t care about that, because the way Bokuto’s hands traveled along his skin felt good. He studied how the captain’s muscles shifted underneath his skin as he moved, memorizing how the heat from those hands felt as it seeped into his own flesh. This was more than good.

“Yeah, but, I wanna touch you.” Bokuto admitted softly, his nails skimming along the undersides of Akaashi’s forearms, making the setter shudder. “We haven’t in a while and I wanna -“

“Sorry.” Akaashi chuckled lowly, but didn’t stop him. “Not today.”

Bokuto whined in protest. It wasn’t loud an obnoxious as usual, but gentle and needy in way that made Akaashi _ache_. “You deserve it. Let me make you feel good. Please.”

Akaashi sucked in a quiet breath and couldn’t prevent himself from dipping down to latch his mouth to Bokuto’s throat. God, he hoped his parents had left already. “Sorry.”

“Uh.” Bokuto’s lips parted and the sound that slipped out was so candid, reactionary, unabashedly pleasured. Akaashi’s fingers dug into the captain’s abs. That sound made him _throb_ and he wanted to hear more of them. He sucked harder, and Bokuto didn’t disappoint. 

“Fuck, Akaashi.” Bokuto gasped. “Please.”

“I can’t.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“I got my period.”

Bokuto swallowed. Then he whined his usual, obnoxious and childish whine. “ _Why_.”

Akaashi snorted as he kissed wetly up along the captain’s neck. “What do you mean _why_?”

“Ugh.” Bokuto settled on.

Akaashi laughed and pulled away. Bokuto was flushed with breathlessness, but even through that Akaashi could still see how pale his skin was, the misery from last night showing on his skin. Akaashi sighed and brought his hand up to play with the hair at the nape of Bokuto’s neck. “How do you feel?”

“Horny and nauseous.” he admitted with a pout that made Akaashi almost choke on laughter.

“At least you’re honest.”

“I like your laugh.” Bokuto smiled.

Akaashi smiled back.

“I like you.” When Bokuto said it this time, he wasn’t sad. It was funny how much more those words now made Akaashi’s pulse quicken.

“I know.” Akaashi pulled at his hair, and Bokuto tensed, but not from pain.

“Do you like me?” Bokuto ventured.

Akaashi could see in his eyes that this wasn’t a selfish question. It wasn’t like the captain was guilting him to say yes, to agree. Bokuto was genuinely curious, genuinely vulnerable. The mixed messages that had been bouncing between them hadn’t been good for either of them, and Akaashi could see how much they had weighed the captain down emotionally. Akaashi wondered if he looked just as worn.

His fingernails scratched at Bokuto’s neck, and the captain’s eyes lidded fractionally. But he was still watching Akaashi, waiting patiently for the answer he may or may not receive. 

“I’m scared.”

Akaashi felt like a coward when he answered. But he knew it was a truthful answer. He couldn’t say something just for the sake of saying it, just lie and say what the other wanted to hear. That wasn’t fair to either of them.

And Bokuto didn’t look angry or pout or do anything that Akaashi would’ve expected him to do. Instead he nodded and simply said, “I know.”

Akaashi’s hand in his hair tightened.

“Y’know,” Bokuto continued, voice just as soft and level, “we don’t have to decide right now.”

“I know.”

“We don’t have to know right now to just do this.” Bokuto leaned forward to chastely kiss Akaashi’s ear. “I just want to be close to you.”

Akaashi swallowed thickly and his other hand went up to rub into Bokuto’s lower back, which felt like it was burning. 

“Me too.” Akaashi breathed out, and pulled Bokuto closer. 

Because he did. He wanted to be close too.

“Here.” 

Bokuto kissed lower down Akaashi’s neck and then tried to lie him down. “We can just stay like this.” He said as he pulled the blanket over them, and pulled Akaashi into him, just like they were last night. 

“Is this okay?”

“No.” 

Akaashi replied thickly and rolled himself over, so his head was buried into the crook of Bokuto’s neck and he wrapped his leg around thigh to press himself as close to him as possible. “This is better.”

Bokuto laughed the happiest laugh Akaashi had heard him make in days, and secured his hands around Akaashi’s hips, rubbing at the curve of flesh above his clothes. “It is.”

“You can do this, idiot.” Akaashi mumbled and guided the captain’s hands underneath his shirt, so they could touch the bare skin of his hips and sides and stomach. Akaashi trailed his hands up and down Bokuto’s spine. “And I can do this. So we’re even.”

Bokuto made a _mhm_ ing sound and caressed the newly-offered skin, and Akaashi continued stroking the flesh he had been all morning.

It was a few moments before one of them spoke. It was Bokuto. “If I fall asleep again will you be mad?”

“No. It’s Sunday. We can do whatever we want.” 

“Good.” Bokuto kissed his ear again and kept his face against it, his breathing feeling good on the shell and making Akaashi shiver.

Akaashi drifted off eventually, warm and content and comfortable. 

He’d hoped Bokuto would stick around for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	9. It's Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to a lot of Lorde writing this. Especially [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWUnVyO1Klk)
> 
> Also, I feel incredibly iffy about this chapter. For some reason I just couldn’t write it - and then when I did, it suddenly turned unnecessarily sad and I just needed to rewrite it completely, that’s why it took so long and I’m so sorry about that. 
> 
> If you find typos or something doesn’t make sense please let me know!

Akaashi decided that waking up to the feeling of fingers scratching through your hair and along your back was the best thing in the world.

He moaned, cuddling closer into the cozy body beside him. It was nice waking up to this time. 

But it wasn’t quiet. There was noise, but Akaashi’s sleepy brain was too fuzzy to figure out exactly what it was.

“This is nice.”

Bokuto was _talking_. But whatever he was saying was quiet, low enough for Akaashi to hear the tiny wet noises that mouths made when they moved to form words. 

“I don’t want this to stop.”

Did he think he was still asleep?

“You’re so pretty, Akaashi.”

_Oh dear_.

Akaashi’s face burned, and he couldn’t be more thankful that it was nestled into Bokuto’s neck. The last thing he wanted was for Bokuto to know that he was awake right now. He didn’t want him to know that he heard all those private, loving things.

Because if he knew that he had heard him and said nothing, then that would most likely just create problems, problems that they had already had. Those issues had been buried and didn’t need to be unearthed.

Especially after the storm had subsided, too. Neither of them needed another lightning crack or downpour.

Bokuto kissed the top of his head, and Akaashi knew he couldn’t keep pretending for much longer. His heart was picking up speed, and they were _too close_ , too pressed together for Bokuto not to feel it.

So he started to pretend to wake up. Because if he was gonna lie to Bokuto, it better be damn convincing. Akaashi stretched his legs out, shifted his weight, tightened his hold on Bokuto. 

The captain’s voice rumbled in his chest as a small laugh. Big calloused fingers began rubbing his back in longer strokes. It made him wish they didn’t have to get up today.

“How’re you, sleepyhead?”

Akaashi wiggled away from Bokuto’s neck enough to make eye contact, playing up blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Fine. How’s the hangover?”

Bokuto snorted. “I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or are genuinely concerned.”

“A bit of both.” Akaashi admitted. Then he traced Bokuto’s bare collarbone because he wanted to. As expected, the skin was warm.

Bokuto’s hands were still on him, so he reciprocated with some more back rubbing and a little hair tugging at the nape of his neck. The sensations made the setter shut his eyes and return to the crevice of Bokuto’s neck.

“I hope that’s a good reaction.” Bokuto mumbled. Akaashi nodded, because he didn’t trust his voice enough to speak.

“Good.” 

And Bokuto kept doing what he was doing, and Akaashi found himself doing everything he could to bring himself as close to Bokuto as humanly possible.

After a few moments of handsy cuddling, Akaashi felt like it had to stop. Because he wanted more of it and more of _Bokuto_ and he couldn’t have what he wanted since someone’s uterus decided to shed its old lining today.

God, he wanted it though.

And he was positive Bokuto was thinking about it too. He was _fucking pulling his hair_. Sure, he hadn’t felt anything poking into him, but that didn’t mean jack shit.

Akaashi swallowed, pulled himself away to and sat up. He couldn’t sit through this torture anymore. Clearing his throat, he ran his fingers through his unkempt hair, messy from sleep and Bokuto’s ministrations. “We should get up. It’s probably really late already.”

“It’s only a little after noon.” Bokuto responded, quickly. _Someone was definitely thinking about it_. “We didn’t sleep for that long.”

“Oh.”

“So we can do this for a little longer,” Bokuto grinned.

There was no way he didn’t know what he was doing to Akaashi. He knew. And he was _plotting_.

“No, c’mon.” 

Akaashi got up from his bed and stretched his arms over his head, standing up on his tiptoes. “We should start our homework.”

Bokuto’s smile faltered. He sighed and flopped forward on his belly, resting his chin on his folded arms. “My stuff’s at my house, though.”

“I can drive you home to get it.” Akaashi offered, easily as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “And while we’re there, you can grab yourself some decent clothes to wear.”

Bokuto huffed and tried really hard not to laugh.

Akaashi tried hard not to laugh, too. “You’re not allowed to stay for dinner if you don’t have a shirt.”

That made Bokuto lift his head up. “You want me to stay for dinner?”

Akaashi averted his eyes and instead went to the wooden chest across the room to pick out fresh clothes for himself. “It was my mom’s idea.”

“She’s nicer to me than you are!!”

—

Driving to Bokuto’s house to get his things was a surprisingly simple affair. 

Somehow the captain managed to only catch his parents on the way out (after he was fully dressed) and had told them he spent the night with a friend. Shockingly, they bought the lie. Even more surprising was that they didn’t ground him or forbid him from leaving the house again.

Huh.

“Today’s _incredible_! I swear, everything’s going perfect!” Bokuto had exclaimed as he hopped into the passenger seat, incredulous happiness glowing on his skin. After buckling, he leaned into Akaashi’s personal space with a dangerous leer and practically _purred_ , “Well, everything except getting into your pants.”

Akaashi had shoved Bokuto’s face into the window glass.

But that was an hour ago, and they were doing homework now in Akaashi’s kitchen sitting at the island. They would have settled in Akaashi’s room, but if they parked their unsupervised, very hormonal and _way-too-excited-about-whatever-it-was-that-they-were-right-now_ rears there, they wouldn’t get anything done. 

Anything homework related. anyway.

They weren’t alone. Akaashi’s mother was with them, chatting away and catching up.

“So, everything’s going well?”

She was turned away towards the kitchen counter, chopping several red and yellow apples into bite-sized slices.

“Mhm!” Bokuto answered emphatically, doodling in the corner of his notebook instead of working on his calculus problem set. “All great, especially volleyball!”

“That’s what Keiji says.” 

She laughed, and just from her tone, Akaashi knew she found the captain’s endless energy and enthusiasm amusing.

Akaashi tried to return to his textbook reading, but he couldn’t focus. Partly because he was anxious that Bokuto would say something incriminating and make his mom ask questions he’d rather not be asked. Also, partly because this was nice. All of them talking, hanging out. It had never happened before, and it felt so _natural_. Why he hadn’t had Bokuto and his mom meet before was an absolute mystery.

“Well, _he’s_ the reason! He’s the best setter in Tokyo, probably!”

Akaashi slapped Bokuto’s hand resting on the table. Bokuto squeaked and snatched it away, cradling it to his chest.

She scolded, smiling, “Play nice.”

Akaashi’s cheeks felt a little warm, and he stared back down at his textbook. Immediately, Bokuto leaned over and scribbled quickly on the page Akaashi was trying to read _i’m sorry!!! :(_ as if he had conveniently forgotten that Akaashi had slapped _him_.

Knowing Bokuto, he probably had. 

Akaashi looked up to roll his eyes at Bokuto but that backfired terribly because the captain ended up grinning so wide it looked _painful_ and drew a big heart right below the scribbled apology. Akaashi’s face only got hotter.

A ceramic thud then almost made Akaashi jump out of his seat. His mother had set a plate full of apple slices and peanut butter on a free spot between them and all their books.

Akaashi tried thank her but Bokuto beat him to the punch and yelled, “Is that for us?!?!”

She nodded, that same amusement flickering in her eyes. “Yes it is.”

Bokuto looked like he just witnessed a heavenly miracle. “You’re incredible.”

She leaned against the island and said, “You’re very sweet.”

Maybe he should have never let these two meet after all.

Both Bokuto and his mom started to laugh when they heard Akaashi groan at them.He felt like he was being ganged up on. Which was exactly what was happening.

Akaashi’s mom turned around to clean up, after she decided she had teased her son enough. He watched her get her rubber gloves on and turn on the facet. 

Then Akaashi felt something on his thigh.

Panicked he looked down, and it was Bokuto’s hand smoothing over the fabric of his baggy sweatpants. It was gentle, not trying to be sexual. Akaashi flicked back up to meet Bokuto’s eyes, but Bokuto was dutifully looking at his homework. Yet, there was a small quirk to his lips. 

Akaashi’s stomach dropped. He felt overwhelmed. But it was good -this kind of overwhelmed.

All of a sudden he wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

“Are you in Keiji’s homeroom?”

Both of the boys jolted in their seats. Bokuto’s hand was back in his own lap fast, but he didn’t look scared. He was grinning, actually. Akaashi, on the other hand, felt like he was having a heart attack.

But it was a false alarm. She was still at the sink with her back turned so there’s no way she could’ve seen any of there… shenanigans? What the heck were they even doing?

Even so, Akaashi felt like she _knew_ anyway. She was so perceptive, and that perceptiveness doubled when it came to him. It was her best and worst quality.

“Nope,” Bokuto chewed on his pencil, “I’m a year above!”

“Ah, really? So you’re looking at universities, then?”

_Yes he was._

“Sort of. There’re a couple I think I might take the entrance exams for.” Bokuto shrugged his shoulders, and the pencil was pulled away from his mouth so he could doodle in the corner of his notebook again. “It depends on whether or not I’ll get scouted for volleyball, though.”

Akaashi was pretending to read. He didn’t want to be part of this conversation.

“Ooh!” She turned to face him, excitement palpable in her aura. “Has that happened yet? Any big schools?”

“It’s still early, so no.”

Bokuto looked uncomfortable, which was strange, because he loved attention, especially when it regarded him and volleyball. That look on his face, his body language… it made Akaashi feel weird. Worse than this conversation already made him feel. 

The captain licked his lips and side-glanced Akaashi, and Akaashi’s heart was picking up speed and he didn’t know _why_.

She was very perceptive indeed, because she suddenly changed the subject. “So, I’m making red curry for dinner. Is that okay?”

“Yeah!” They both said, too hurriedly to be normal.

She smiled. She had noticed that too. Akaashi could see it in her eyes. “Okay, I’ll stop embarrassing you two. I’ll be back in a bit to start dinner.”

“Mom, it’s fine. You can stay.”

“Yeah, you’re so nice!”

She laughed, removed her gloves and wiped her hands on her pants. “You’re only saying that,” she focused on Bokuto all of a sudden, “because I didn’t scold you for drinking.”

Bokuto looked like he got punched in the face.

Akaashi covered his mouth because he was _gaping_. He tried not to laugh because he felt just as horrified as Bokuto felt but the look at the captain’s face was _absolutely priceless_.

“Bye, boys.”

And then she left without a second glance back at the teenage boy she just _burned_.

When they heard her talking to Akaashi’s dad in the other room, Bokuto slumped forward to rest his head on the table and whined quietly, “She hates me.”

Since the coast was clear he leaned in and kissed Bokuto’s shoulder. He didn’t know why he had such an urge to be so affectionate today. It was probably fair to blame the hormones, but to be truthful he wasn’t that upset about it. A few days ago, he would have been a lot more self-deprecate about all these desires to express all his tenderness and emotion , but now… it just felt natural to want to do all these things and even more natural to just do them.

He left his lips against his shoulder, and placed his hand on Bokuto’s bicep as he replied. “She doesn’t. She doesn’t hate anyone. She just likes to tease.”

“Are you sure?” Bokuto turned his head to the side, the shock still rendering his skin scarily pale. 

Akaashi nuzzled into hin. “She’s my mom. I know her very, _very well_.”

Bokuto groaned to himself and after a moment he resigned. “Fine.”

“Do your homework.” Akaashi squeezed his arm.

“Help me with it! You’re so much better at math than I am!”

“You’re just lazy.”

“Please?” _He didn’t even argue that he wasn’t._

Akaashi grabbed his pencil and scribbled out an emphatic _no_ in the center of the problem set sheet and underlined it several times for emphasis. Bokuto whined the whole while but did nothing to stop him.

“Y’know,” Bokuto pouted, his hand back on Akaashi’s thigh - _when had that even happened??_ \- but this time it was definitely _sexual_ with the way his eyes were slanted, and his voice had lowered into a gravely pitch, “being mean doesn’t make me want to kiss you.”

Akaashi swallowed, because he was _staring_ at his mouth, and Akaashi was staring at his and his belly felt like it was burning. “Liar.”

Then that pout curled a bit, and it suddenly was a small, playful leer. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Bokuto, _not now_.”

“C’mon, it’ll be quick…”

“No.”

“ _Pleeeeeease?_ ”

“My parents are in the other room!”

“They won’t see anything.”

“Do your homework!” Akaashi buried his nose in his book, because he was losing his willpower too quickly and he didn’t trust himself to successfully argue when Bokuto was _whispering in his ear like that_. 

And Akaashi had to be strong. He knew if they did it once, just one kiss, they’d want to keep going.

Or _worse_ , they’d suspiciously go up to his room together, passing by both of his parents. And then they’d come back down later together, lips swollen and all flushed and just so _fucking obvious_ that they both had sucked face.

The only thing that was stopping them from doing _anything_ and _everything_ was a little bit of blood, after all.

Akaashi felt like he was dying.

“Please, _we can’t_.”

Bokuto whined again, but he respectfully snatched his hand away and returned to his homework. 

But as usual, he couldn’t keep to himself for long. He was too extroverted to keep himself confined to his own thoughts and feelings for more than a couple of minutes. With an apple in his mouth he asked, eyes still glued to his calculus, “ _She suh nishe doe._ ”

“Huh?”

Bokuto chewed and swallowed and then repeated, this time intelligibly, “She’s so nice, though.”

“Who?”

“You’re mom. Like, ridiculously, _unbelievably movie-mom nice.”_

Akaashi shrugged. “I mean, I suppose so…”

“No!” Calculus could only keep the captain’s interest for so long. Bokuto put himself in Akaashi’s personal bubble and continued. “If my mom, heck _either_ of my parents acted like that, I’d think something was really, really wrong. Like maybe that they were aliens or were on drugs or _something_.”

The setter narrowed his eyes. “C’mon.”

“I’m serious, dude. She’s like an angel or something.”

Everything Bokuto was saying was right. Akaashi knew he was blessed to have such a supportive, loving person in his life. But she had always been that way, and yeah, maybe he did kind of take her for granted sometimes. But he also couldn’t imagine a life without her, how that a life with her seemed unreal to other people.

Akaashi simpered and rested his chin on his knuckles. “You’re hoping she overhears you or something, right?”

Bokuto narrowed his eyes. “Not everything I do is so selfishly motivated, FYI.”

That definitely was _not_ something he’d been expecting to come out of the other’s mouth, _ever_. 

And it kind of hurt.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean -“

“Akaashi, I’m kidding!” Bokuto snickered into the crook of his elbow, clearly amused with whatever the hell he just did. “But honestly, she’s awesome.”

“Yeah.”

Bokuto grabbed another apple slice and scooped a huge portion of peanut butter onto it and offered it to Akaashi, to which he accepted with a small grateful smile.

“Is your dad the same way?”

“Um, not really.” 

Bokuto’s face sunk. “Oh, sorry -“

“No.” Akaashi bit into the apple. It was a little sour, crunchy and not as juicy as it could’ve been. But it was still good. “He’s fine. He’s not a bad guy or a problem. He’s just not anything like her.” He finished the apple after another bite. “No one’s like her.”

“Okay.” Bokuto licked his bottom lip. It was shiny, from apple or from saliva, Akaashi couldn’t tell.

“He’s just… quiet. Really quiet; reserved.”

A small, affirmative noise left the captain’s mouth. Then, after a moment, he snorted. “You get it from somewhere, I suppose.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened. “ _…are you making fun of me?_ ”

Bokuto’s face paled instantly.“Wait, are you upset…?”

“No. I just can’t believe you did that.”

“Well… I did.” Bokuto bragged.

Akaashi shoved an apple slice into Bokuto’s mouth to shut him up.

—

“Thanks for the food! It was incredible!”

Bokuto just finished up his eighth (maybe ninth??) praise to his mom. 

She’s wasn’t even verbally responding anymore: she just nodded or laughed or did a combination of both. All of a sudden she stood up and walked over to Bokuto’s chair. Standing behind him she leaned down and patted both of his cheeks with her hands lightly.

“Keiko,” his father said after placing his empty tea mug onto the table, his face screwed up in disapproval, “What’re you doing to him?”

“We’re friends, honey, don’t worry. Right, Bokuto?”

Bokuto gushed and nodded enthusiastically, especially as his cheeks were rubbed more. He looked like an overly loved family pet, overwhelmed with attention. Which exactly was what he was.

But, Bokuto couldn’t see his mother’s expression. There was this pointed look in her eyes, hardly disguised by her smile and pleasant tone if you actually looked at her. Only Akaashi and his father could see that look, but his father just arched a brow and didn’t say a word, because it meant nothing to him.

But it was meant for her son anyway, that look. It was directed right at him. And it screamed _You’re still doing the dishes, aren’t you, sweetie?_

Akaashi nodded obediently, and started to clear the table. “Bokuto, help me clean up.”

“Sure thing!” Said teen tried to get up, but his mother’s hands were still pressed to his face. Bokuto looked up and grinned. “Thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it.” She cooed gently and returned to her husband who was just standing up from the table and pushing in his chair. 

“Thanks, boys!” She said, and Akaashi’s father nodded at them. And then they left, starting up a conversation about work tomorrow.

Bokuto was humming to himself as he collected all of the plates and utensils, awkwardly balancing them in his arms. Akaashi couldn’t tell if he’d make a really good or a really bad waiter.

Just like his mother, Akaashi put on the rubber gloves and started to get to work on everything with the scrub brush and heavy-duty dish soap after Bokuto deposited the pile of ceramic and metal next to the sink. Then he went back to retrieve the cups, throw away their used napkins and did whatever else needed to be done.

When Bokuto returned and placed everything else on the counter with a heavy clink he leaned his chin on Akaashi’s shoulder and asked “Can I help wash? Please?”

“I got it. Wanna dry?”

Bokuto groaned but relented anyway. “Fine.”

“Thanks.” Akaashi reached for a dry dish rag and tossed it to the captain. He caught it easily and began to work, still leaning on Akaashi but now with his cheek instead. 

They had a pretty good rhythm going. Rinse. Scrub. Rinse. Pass. Dry. Stack. It was relaxing: the sounds of the plates, the rubber squeaking, the water rushing, their smalltalk. Akaashi’s belly was full of food and blood and heat; he felt sleepy and heavy and happy. Good. Just really good. And Bokuto undoubtedly felt the same - he ate about two more helpings than he had.

Bokuto placed a dry cup next to the other ones and sighed. “Maybe I’ll just give up on my homework. Calc gave up on me a long time ago, after all.”

Akaashi clicked his tongue. “You wanna graduate, right?”

“I’m not going to fail! Jeez.”

“If you keep giving up you’re gonna _definitely fail_.”

“Well, I asked someone to help me and they never did.”

Akaashi hip-checked him lightly. “I have to do my own homework.”

An excited noise left Bokuto’s throat. “Let’s have a homework sleepover!!”

“That’s an awful idea.”

“Please?! Can we?”

“No.”

Bokuto starting poking his foot into Akaashi’s calf. “Why can’t I sleep over?”

“Akaashi exasperatedly argued back, “We have school tomorrow!”

“But I need help with my homework! And my parents will literally kill me if I stay out late tonight. If I sleepover, that’s a different story~”

“We can’t have a sleepover.”

“We did last night!”

“Well, last night was _different_.” Akaashi deadpanned.

“Well… yeah.” Bokuto agreed, not being able to argue with that. But he tried to. “But if we just-“

Akaashi sighed, cutting him off and cutting right to the chase. “Both of us are sober. And both of us have… a little more clarity about… whatever this _is_.”

Bokuto hummed. “Yep! It’s great!”

“Yeah… but we probably won’t get any homework done because of that.” Akaashi kept his eyes on the last plate he was washing. “Or sleep.”

Bokuto snorted. “Yes we will.”

“Will we?”

Bokuto made a noise, and Akaashi couldn’t figure out what it meant. “…It depends.”

“On what?”

“For starters… do you still care that I threw up this morning?”

Akaashi looked away from the dish and into Bokuto’s eyes. He couldn’t help himself from smirking, just the tiniest bit. “Depends on why that’s a relevant question.”

Bokuto was staring at his mouth. He wasn’t even trying to be discreet.

And that was okay.

Akaashi was staring at his mouth, anyway.

“So.” Bokuto pressed on. “Do you? Have a problem with that?”

Akaashi looked at the plate, his reflection barely visible and horribly distorted in the soapy ceramic glaze.

“No.” Akaashi finally answered, dragging the syllable out. “Not at all.”

“Your parents are around, still.”

Bokuto had a point. But he also was biting his lip, and it looked so inviting… and it would only take a second to just taste it…

“Then we’ll have to make it quick.”

And Akaashi leaned in and pressed his mouth to Bokuto’s.

Bokuto’s hand dropped the rag to the floor and then reoccupied itself with Akaashi’s hip.

It was sweet. Simple. Warm. Just lips pressed to lips. It was something that you wanted to wrap yourself into, cuddle into, burrow inside and never let go 

Akaashi wanted to take Bokuto upstairs and do exactly that.

Akaashi broke away and whispered, his gloved fingers itching to tangle themselves in Bokuto’s hair, “See… _quick_.”

Bokuto exhaled, his big eyes even bigger, his expression just the slightest bit timid but quivering with satisfaction. “Do we have time for another one?”

Akaashi stepped closer, his foot moving between Bokuto’s, his knee touching the sides of his legs. “A quick one.” 

“Okay.”

Bokuto initiated this kiss, and this time his mouth was moving more, they weren’t simply _pecking lips_. They were kissing. Akaashi could taste curry. It made his toes curl in his socks.

When they broke apart, this time after too short of a time or too long _Akaashi had no clue_ , Bokuto was breathing heavier, his eyes lidded. “Just saying, if I sleepover we can do that all night.”

“Idiot, that’s why we can’t.” Akaashi smiled and removed the rubber gloves and placed them back into the basket in the sink. “It can’t be a homework sleepover if we’re not doing homework.”

“I know.” Bokuto laughed, quietly, and squeezed his hip firmly and it made Akaashi’s eyes flutter because _wow he liked being grabbed_. “At least tell me you wish we could.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Akaashi whispered, letting his hands trace along the smoothness of the other’s neck and jaw. 

“Once more?” Bokuto pleaded softly, his hand squeezing harder. “Then homework?”

“Once more.” Akaashi nodded, his thumbs stroking the shells of Bokuto’s ears.

And they did. They slotted their mouths together in a third kiss.

And maybe they did go in for a fourth afterwards. Their homework could wait for one moment more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And also, the name Keiko means “happy child”, when spelled with the kanji 慶子 :)


	10. Is It Though?

“Yes!”

“Nice spike, Captain!”

“Akaashi! _Nice toss!!_ ”

Bokuto was coming at him like meteor. He hurled both his hands in the air and Akaashi met both of them confidently in a double-handed high five. It stung in the best way possible. 

Akaashi’s grin was huge, he could feel it stretching the entirety of his face: he just couldn’t help but get caught up in the captain’s enthusiasm. 

Morning practice was going a lot better today than it had all last week. The tension between him and Bokuto had completely dissolved. They were talking, joking openly with each other, praising each other whenever they could get the chance (or really, Bokuto kept screaming his name every time one of his tosses was turned into a successful spike during their inter-team scrimmage). 

Even though Saturday night had seemed pretty bleak, things between them had turned out okay. _Definitely okay_. Comparing the events of yesterday to everything that had happened the week prior, things seemed great, _phenomenal_. One-thousand percent phenomenally better. 

Especially with how the night ended. That _once more_ turned into half an hour more. They’d ended up back in Akaashi’s bed, Bokuto pinning him down, just kissing. Bokuto was good at it. He kept doing _this thing_ with his teeth on the setter’s bottom lip that felt amazing, and that’s why Akaashi maybe let things drag on for a lot longer than he had insisted. And when they finished their homework, and Akaashi had driven the captain home, he had leaned over the center console and kissed Bokuto goodnight. 

He’d never done that before. The only person that ever kissed him goodnight was his mom. All of this was new, brand new, and Akaashi liked it. A lot.

So, having back that positivity and connectivity with Bokuto was wonderful. So indescribably amazing.

Plus, it was great to have that relationship back on the court. Volleyball was something Akaashi loved. He didn’t spend hours and hours a week waking up early and staying late most days because he felt lukewarm about the sport. It was a huge relief to have it back without any drama to ruin it.

“You’re doing awesome, today!” Bokuto gushed and remained planted in front of the setter. 

“Thanks.” Akaashi resisted the urge to kiss his nose. Instead he scratched behind his own neck before teasing, “Get back into position. We can’t start the next point with you where you are right now.”

“Yeah! Bokuto move your ass, it’s my serve!” Konoha barked from the serving line.

“Sorry, sorry!” Bokuto quickly and apologetically shifted to his new rotation and got into a ready position. He still was giving Akaashi a sidelong glance and it made Akaashi’s stomach bubble all warmly.

Konoha flung the ball up into the air and sent it flying fast to the other side of the net.

“Nice serve!” Akaashi and a couple others chorused.

Komi received it easily, because he was used to it. If he wasn’t, that would’ve been another story. But the ball hadn’t touched the ground yet and was being set up for a quick. One of the first year’s was playing setter for the other team and he delivered a decent toss to Sarukui who slammed it down through the blockers and scored.

“Alright!!”

“Nice spike!”

Akaashi could see Bokuto stewing by the net, since he was part of the blocking trio that had been shut down. Akaashi really wanted to go over and pat him on the back and reassure him that he’d stop them next time, but he thought better of it. 

The two of them had been noticeably, obviously, _strangely_ chummy all morning. It was a complete one-eighty from last week, and they had already been getting stares from the rest of the team.

Akaashi even saw some whispering going on.

And as much as it hurt him to admit it to himself, but all of this wasn’t even Bokuto’s fault. This attention. It was wholly the setter’s fault.

Bokuto always acted moody and capriciously. He was clingy and excited and loud every day of his life. In addition, he was affectionately supportive of every single one of his teammates - he was a very hands-on captain when it came to praise. Especially with the setter. They’d been friends for a good while, and they hung out frequently beyond club activities, so their closeness, Bokuto’s focused attention to him wasn’t bizarre.

But know what was bizarre? Akaashi reciprocating the praise with mirrored enthusiasm. Akaashi going out of his way to tell the captain he did a good job. Akaashi initiating high fives. Akaashi laughing when Bokuto raised him in the air and spun him around and let out a victorious whoop.

_Yeah. This was Akaashi’s fault entirely._

He just couldn’t help it though. He’d spent too many days, too much energy denying himself to react favorably to the captain’s treatment to him, not to mention his own feelings. Now that he felt a little taste of happiness, he wanted to taste it all the time. He wanted to be Bokuto’s center of attention all the time. He liked the touches, the compliments, the smiles, the hugs. He liked the murmured comments in his ear and how he could smell the captain’s strong deodorant when he leaned into him. He liked all of this, and he wanted to indulge himself in it every second he could.

Akaashi wasn’t used to letting himself being this kind of selfish.

And it felt _amazing_.

(Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to blame his menstrual hormones on this).

But as good as it was, it also was blatant. And people were gonna talk. They already were.

Akaashi didn’t care what people said about him. People always said things about him, and he’d gotten used to it years ago.

But he wasn’t sure if Bokuto was okay with it.

Mainly because, although Bokuto loved being in the spotlight, he floundered when it came to negative scrutiny.

The problem with all of this was a little complex: he and Bokuto were acting flirty, like they were in a relationship (Akaashi found this was getting more and more difficult to avoid). And people were noticing. 

But the thing was… Bokuto only ever pursued girls. 

It wasn’t that Bokuto was _straight_. He just publicly was at school.

Bokuto had never dated anyone before, but he had had his fair share of hookups. If he didn’t leave a party without sucking face it was considered strange. Bokuto was just a physical person, and when he had a shot or two in him, that magnified that quality tenfold. He liked touching people, he liked feeling good, and he needed that kind of validation and outlet. And he only ever did that with girls at Fukurodani parties.

He didn’t start doing that on purpose, though. It just kinda happened, because no one really thought Bokuto was anything but a heterosexual bro (as Kuroo joked). So girls were the ones only ever making their ways over to him, saving his number in their phones, asking to feel his arms, begging him to mark up their necks. That’s just how it went.

And Bokuto didn’t hate this. In fact, he seemed to really enjoy that kind of attention. But it just wasn’t exclusively what he was into.

In all, Bokuto didn’t really care who he made out with. As long as they were kind and he was attracted to them, he had no problem sitting with them for a while in a corner of some stranger’s house and mutually feeling each other up. 

Akaashi had learned about this last year, when they had met Kenma and Kuroo for fast-food after practice. All four of them were talking about something that Akaashi couldn’t quite remember. All he did recall was that Bokuto had casually mentioned that he didn’t mind making out with anyone. He had said he didn’t like labels when it came to that kind of stuff, and he’d do whatever with whoever, basically. 

Kenma had shrugged and continued silently sipping his milkshake while Kuroo had just stared at him.

“Have you even ever kissed a dude?” Kuroo had raised an eyebrow as he had shoved more salty fries into his mouth.

“Once. It was at a training camp in middle school.” Bokuto explained between a mouthful of his burger. Akaashi had given him a napkin, nose wrinkled in disgust because he hated it when people talked with their mouth full. “He had nice hair. It was really cool looking! And I told him that. And he asked me all of a sudden if I wanted to kiss him, and I was like _uh sure_?? I kinda just wanted to touch his hair. So we did. We kissed. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Why have I never heard that story?” Kuroo complained as he had barely covered up his amused laughter.

“I just said it wasn’t a big deal.” Bokuto had pouted. “We kissed once and that was kinda it. I honestly was more psyched about his hair. It was _so soft_ , guys.”

“That just… such a lame story. I feel like you would’ve told me about it already.” Kuroo had pretended to look offended and did an awful job at being convincing. Kenma had rolled his eyes and stolen one of Kuroo’s fries for himself without the Nekoma captain noticing.

“I just did!”

“Not the point, bro.”

And that had been that. The only real thing that had changed after that conversation was that Kuroo started introducing him to more Nekoma athletes and Bokuto began adding a few more boys and a variety of gender identities to his list of people he’s hooked up with.

But Bokuto only ever did that outside of the Fukurodani realm. Everyone at their school still thought Bokuto was straight. 

Including the volleyball team.

Not that people were so outwardly cruel or unaccepting at school - things were usually more liberal in the city, after all. But still, it would be a change. People would see Bokuto differently. And they would start seeing him differently soon with the way that he and Bokuto were acting because even if they were best friends it was obvious something had _changed_. People would know. People were a lot smarter than Akaashi liked to admit.

He just wasn’t sure if Bokuto was up for that. For that change. For all of this. He said he was, but that was during the heat of the moment and when he had a lot of liquor in him.

He said he wanted more. But did he really?

Akaashi in the end decided not to go over and attempt to placate the captain. He let him wallow in his momentary emotional low. As soon as Konoha served again, that frustration would be miles away from him.

And when Konoha hit his next serve, Akaashi could see that his hypothesis was absolutely correct.

Akaashi decided to cut back on his selfishness for the rest of practice. It was hard to, it was _really hard to_ , but he didn’t want to overstep any of Bokuto’s boundaries.

But after practice, everything was okay.

The whole team had showered and were getting ready for school in the club room. Most people had left already, just a handful of people were lingering. And Bokuto of course was one of them.

“Thanks again for yesterday.” 

Bokuto was leaning against the locker beside Akaashi’s with genuine gratitude plastered on his face.

Akaashi nodded as he reapplied his deodorant. “Sure. It was no problem.”

“I actually think I’m gonna get a perfect score on my calculus homework. That’s never happened once before!”

That made the setter chuckle low in his throat as he rummaged around for his shirt. “I’m glad I could help.”

“Dude, you pretty much did my homework for me. You did a lot more than help!!” Bokuto slung his arm around Akaashi’s bare shoulders and nuzzled his nose against his cheek. 

All the blood in his body (that wasn’t currently dripping out of him) rushed to his face. Akaashi swallowed and grumbled out, “C’mon.”

“What? Can’t I say thank you?” Bokuto murmured back sweetly as his mouth got dangerously close to his ear.

“You can say thank you later.” Akaashi groused but made no move to get away (even though he really, really should’ve). 

Bokuto huffed through his nose but still pressed closer, “Why can’t I say it now?”

“Because I know what you’re gonna _do_ , not _say_ ,” Akaashi stared down at the floor because if he made eye contact his resolve would be instantly annihilated. 

“Do you want me to do that?” Bokuto asked, quietly, blowing on his cheek, his ear. It made the setter shiver.

“There are people still here.” Akaashi gritted out.

“Well…there aren’t any people in the supplies closet in the gym.” Bokuto quipped back, his grin turning into pure mischievousness. “And we still have twenty minutes before class.”

That was certainly true…

Akaashi sucked his teeth for a second before whispering back, only feeling a little guilty for giving in, “Give me a minute to get dressed.”

“Why? You’re just gonna take your clothes off in a minute, anyway.”

“Oh, you wish I was.” Akaashi teased the captain as he elbowed him away, who was too busy giggling at the setter’s comment. The remaining other players in the room turned to stare at the setter and the captain because of all of the commotion, and the weight of all the attention and the fear of that whole conversation being overheard made Akaashi want to curl up into a ball.

But this was normal. Akaashi shoving away Bokuto after he did or said something ridiculous. This wasn’t suspicious. This was okay.

Akaashi had to refrain himself from smiling as he slipped his school uniform. As he knotted his tie, Onaga gingerly walked up to him and asked, in that gruff manner of his, “Is Captain being silly again?”

“When isn’t he?” Akaashi rolled his eyes as he adjusted his blazer. “But it’s all good.”

“I just wanted to make sure.” The first year said stiffly. “You two have been acting different lately and I wanted to make sure you were okay, senpai…”

Akaashi cracked a small smile. “Did you lose a bet or something?”

The first year tensed and averted his eyes. “N-no.”

“You sure?” Akaashi pushed on. 

And when he heard Konoha and Sarukui snickering and then saw them in the corner clearly conspiring and enjoying the awkward interaction between the setter and the middle blocker, he knew his suspicions were correct.

“Don’t let them bully you.” Akaashi said simply as he got his stuff together. Onaga shrugged weakly and left the setter as he walked a little too quickly out of the club room. The two third years high-fived each other when he was gone.

Akaashi sighed and shut his locker, heading over to them. “Do you have to?”

“It’s so easy to frazzle that kid.” Konoha leered. “He’s like a ticking time bomb, and the bomb is stick-shaped and up his ass.”

Akaashi just stared at him as Sarukui lost his shit. 

“I kid, I kid.” Konoha bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to regain his composure. 

“Just don’t traumatize him.” Akaashi replied, sounding tired. 

He looked away quickly to scan the club room while the two boys continued to jokingly defend their actions. As per his expectations, Bokuto had already left and probably was waiting for him in the closet. Akaashi wished he was already there with him instead of dealing with these two morons.

“But it came from a good place.” Sarukui touched his own heart. “We are kinda worried about you.”

“Why?” Akaashi did his best to sound both annoyed and clueless. He hoped it was convincing.

“You and Bokuto have been kinda… off. Well, really _you_ , in all honesty. Did you guys have a fight or something?” Sarukui asked as he adjusted the shoulder strap of his bag.

Akaashi shrugged. “Sort of. But it’s fine now.”

“Did you kiss and make up?” Konoha joked.

“Something like that.” Akaashi rolled his eyes.

“Well, just checking up on ya.” Sarukui patted his shoulder and then started to leave.

“We’re just good senpais like that.” Konoha added with a wave, following suit. “We’ll see you later!”

“Bye.” Akaashi nodded and the two third years left. Only a few of the first years were lingering around, copying off each other’s homework, taking forever to put on their clothes. Akaashi said goodbye to them and, as expected, they were all too busy to notice that he wasn’t heading towards the classrooms and instead back into the gym, to go meet a _certain someone_ to do a _certain something_.

When Akaashi walked into the supply closet, Bokuto was leaning his back against an empty space of wall as he played around on his phone. He perked up when he saw the setter, and he thumbed out something really quickly, most likely a text to Kuroo, and then shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Bokuto questioned, already sauntering up to the setter with a big pout on his face. “We’re wasting precious minutes here.”

“For what?” Akaashi asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

“Make out, duh.”

Akaashi laughed and it made Bokuto’s pout stretch into a big happy smile.

“How much time do we have?” Akaashi asked.

Bokuto whipped out his phone and double-checked it. And then frowned. “Eight minutes.”

“Nine if we sprint to homeroom.”

Bokuto’s face brightened. “That’s the spirit!”

Akaashi removed his school bag and carelessly dropped it on the floor. Then he wrapped his arms around Bokuto’s waist and said to his face. “No marks, okay?”

“Okay.” Bokuto agreed easily and let his hands wander down to squeeze at Akaashi’s hips.

_Oh god, yes._

Akaashi was the one to lean forward and initiate it.

And nine and a half minutes later Bokuto was the one to end it. He scooped up both their bags and sprinted towards the classrooms, both of them breathless and flushed for all the right reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took forever! hopefully i'm about to get a lot better about updating this. 
> 
> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	11. No, It Definitely Isn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see i told you i'd get better about updating

There wasn’t any club activities after school. They’d taken place in the morning, so the evening was oh-so-wonderfully free.

Akaashi was playing around on his phone as he waited outside of the third year faculty office for Bokuto. His Calculus teacher had wanted to properly congratulate him for scoring a perfect mark on his homework assignment for the first time ever. He’d been in there for ten minutes already.

Bokuto had gone in there gushing and Akaashi could only fathom what he’d look like coming out.

When the door creaked awkwardly open, it revealed a very pale and very agonized-looking Bokuto.

_Oh. That definitely was not what he had expected._

“You okay?” Akaashi didn’t know how to approach this. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why the captain looked just so _defeated_.

“She thinks I cheated.” Bokuto sorrowed, staring straight ahead into nothingness at the blank, neutral-colored hallway walls.

Akaashi snorted and covered his mouth to unsuccessfully stifle his bubbling laughter. Bokuto shot him a hurt look, but that only made the giggling more difficult to choke down. This was definitely _not_ the way he should be approaching this situation, but he couldn’t help it. 

This was absolute gold.

“She tried to give me a zero on it.” Bokuto continued, his bottom lip wavering, even more crushed, “And I said, _no you don’t understand, sensei, my friend was helping me! He’s good at math! He taught me how to do it and then i did it myself! I promise!!_ ”

“And she didn’t believe you?” Akaashi managed through his teeth. He was trying very hard to be supportive.

“ _No_. But she also didn’t give me a zero. She’s probably gonna deduct partial credit. At least that’s what she told me…”

“Ouch.” Akaashi said, not sounding hurt at all but actually a little sarcastic. Bokuto deflated a little more at that, and a small ache of guilt shot through his insides. Akaashi tried to backtrack and ended up patting the captain affectionately on his shoulder. 

“But, y’know what?”

“What?” Bokuto sounded tired.

“It’s still probably the highest grade you’ve ever gotten on a math assignment.”

Akaashi couldn’t control himself. He tried, but it just wasn’t happening.

As mean as that was, it got Bokuto to crack the faintest of smiles.

_Thank goodness._

“Nothing ever good happens to me!” Bokuto lamented as the two of them retreated from the office and started towards the main entrance of the school. They had all their books and practice gear and were on their way out.

“Really?” Akaashi remarked simply. He nudged his shoulder into Bokuto’s and the captain looked down, his eyes big and brimming with curiosity. “What about volleyball? You’re the captain. You’re probably gonna play in college. Those are all pretty good things that have happened to you, if you ask me.”

Bokuto slung his arm around Akaashi’s shoulder and his big wide eyes seemed to glitter, even in the crappy school lighting. “You forgot the best thing! _You_. You happened to me!”

Akaashi rolled his eyes and tried to hide just how much that _stupid sweet line_ made his pulse hiccup happily in his chest. “Flattery gets you nowhere.”

“Maybe,” Bokuto teased, “But will it get me a kiss?”

_Great._

Akaashi’s jaw tensed. “Maybe later.”

“Why not now?” Bokuto pressed on playfully, poking into Akaashi’s rib with his index finger.

“We’re in public.”

“So?”

 _So?_ So people would _see?_

“I’m just not comfortable.” Akaashi said and didn’t elaborate any further. 

He didn’t want to go into this now. Did Bokuto not understand? Did any of those consequences not even cross his mind? Maybe later when they were alone and comfortable they could talk about it. Weigh the pros and cons. 

Just not now.

Akaashi just wanted to think only of the pros at the moment. 

That seemed to get Bokuto off his case. “Oh, sorry.” 

The captain gave him some space, both physical and emotional, as they continued walking side by side. The silence wasn’t exactly strained but it also wasn’t exactly comfortable.

_Fuck, this is all my fault._

“So,” Bokuto cut short Akaashi’s inner self-deprecating rant. He was checking his phone as he continued, “Kuroo said they had morning practice, too, so he wants to do something.”

“Cool.” Akaashi nodded. That sounded great. And the subject change was more than welcomed. “What does he wanna do?”

“Probably get food or something.” Bokuto shrugged and looked up at Akaashi questioningly. “Anything in particular you want?”

He shook his head. “Kenma’s coming, right?”

“Obviously.”

“I’ll ask him. He’s the picky one.”

Bokuto snorted at that because _dear god was that true_.

Akaashi fished his phone out of his bag and shot the Nekoma setter a quick text. And when he got a response less than thirty seconds later he wasn’t surprised since Kenma always had his phone in hand.

Kenma: _milkshakes_

Akaashi looked up with a small smirk and Bokuto asked, “Lemme guess: dessert or fast food?”

“Milkshakes.” Akaashi supplied, his smirk growing wider. “So where should we go?”

“Uh, hold on.” Bokuto returned to his phone and after a moment he said while still staring at the screen, “There’s a place by Nekoma that just opened, and Kenma’s been wanting to try it. It’s like a cafe dessert place, apparently.”

“That’s fine. Let’s go catch the train. My parents needed the car today, sorry.”

“No problem!” Bokuto exclaimed, and the two of them hustled over to the nearest station, leaving that momentary awkwardness behind in the emptying hallways of the high school.

—

“Kenma you’re gonna _die_.”

“I’m fine.”

“If you drink all that I guarantee you’re gonna die.” Kuroo stared reproachfully at the plastic cup sitting on the table in front of the blonde setter. It was huge: it probably could fit the mass of his skull inside of it. It was _fucking enormous_. And it was hot pink.

Bokuto chuckled before he shoved a giant chocolate chip cookie in his mouth, “He’s eaten stuff a whole lot _worse_ , bro.”

“Yeah, I know, but I just feel like this is the thing that’ll kill him.”

Kenma just sucked a huge mouthful of the pink frappe into his cheeks, pointedly ignoring the conversation about his eating habits. Akaashi chewed on the straw of his small iced coffee. He decided to ignore the captains, too.

“Good?” Akaashi asked the blonde quietly, and Kenma nodded.

“Watermelon.” He said simply and put the thick straw back in his mouth to slurp up some more.

Akaashi’s smiled affirmatively and took his own sip of his drink. It was sweet. Either the milk was sweetened or the beans used were flavored or something, but it was very, _very sugary_. Almost too much so (even for him), but it was fine. It wasn’t the end of the world. 

The whole cafe, actually, just looked and smelled sugary. The tables and chairs were matte pastel plastic and the walls were painted a subdued lavender. And all the employees were all in matching hot pink baseball caps and aprons. Even the clientele matched the cafe’s aesthetic: most of them were high school girls, with big fluffy ribbons in their hair and bright lip glosses glittering on their smiling mouths. 

The four boys definitely seemed out of place. But it wasn’t like any of them cared.

They had all ended up in stranger places before. This was practically nothing.

“He’s fine.” 

In addition to his cookie, Bokuto was also drinking something smaller, but equally as toxic-looking as Kenma’s. But, his drink was lime green.

“Pfft, like you’re one to talk.”

“Kuroo, shut up.”

“Guys, c’mon.” Akaashi rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee. “Can we just not?”

“We’re not even doing anything.” Bokuto grumbled moodily under his breath and sucked down half of his _god-knows-what_ drink.

“It’s annoying.” Kenma and Akaashi said together.

Kuroo smirked as he took off the lid of his cup and took a sip of his own iced coffee. He took it black. Akaashi could never really figure out if he actually _liked_ it like that or just got it because it looked cool. 

He did that kind of stuff all the time, it didn’t surprise Akaashi anymore. It was the same reason why Kuroo only wore black boxer briefs. Because he thought it looked _cool_.

Bokuto meanwhile puffed up his cheeks and remained quiet.

“Anyway,” Kuroo said eventually, using his straw to stir the drink, still very much amused, “Thanks for the ride the other night.”

“No problem.”

“Yeah, me too. Thanks.” Bokuto flushed a little with his words.. 

Even though things had worked out alright, he still seemed to be pretty embarrassed about everything that had happened Saturday night. _Which was completely understandable_ , Akaashi thought. No one’s proud of breaking down into drunken tears and sharing secrets they weren’t really ready to tell.

Akaashi, under the table, gently nudged his foot into Bokuto’s ankle. The captain tensed immediately and flushed even harder. He seemed to only be able to look down at his drink, very self-consciously and miserably.

_Well, that didn’t work._

Kuroo didn’t miss that little exchange. Kuroo never missed anything. He rose an eyebrow and asked, “Did I miss something?” even though he clearly knew the answer to that question already.

“No.” Akaashi said easily. 

“Ah, okay.” His smirk only widened. Akaashi knew that Kuroo had picked up on the lie before it even left his lips.

“Kuroo.” Kenma scolded lightly, not looking up from his phone or his drink.

“What?” He asked, mildly-offended and also mildly-not. “I’m curious.”

Bokuto sighed and looked at the Nekoma captain in the eye and said finally, “I cried. That’s what you missed. Asshole.”

Kuroo snorted. “ _No I didn’t_. You were crying in the car. I saw you. I wasn’t _that_ drunk. Besides, you cry all the time. That’s nothing new, bro.”

Akaashi had to cover his mouth, because he felt bad for laughing. Especially since Bokuto had sacrificed his pride to cover up Akaashi’s rookie _we’re secretly hooking up with each other but are really bad at being covert about it_ move. 

Bokuto looked so betrayed.

“Shut up.” Bokuto grumbled, still sending the other captain the stink eye.

“How bad was the hangover?” Kuroo teased, still pressing because he knew he could.

“I said _shut up_.”

Kuroo only laughed more. “Mine was nonexistent, thanks for asking!”

“How’s your singular hickey doing?” 

Akaashi broke in, because as fun as this was, he was starting to feel a little guilty for adding to Bokuto’s current suffering.

That made Kuroo shut up. He just stared at the setter, his lips slightly parted. He looked like he had been slapped but he also looked incredibly impressed.

“You’re getting better.” was all the Nekoma captain had to say.

“Thanks,” Akaashi said dryly, “but really, is it still there? Have you talk to the girl since?”

Kuroo’s confidence wavered. “No and no.”

“Dude, why not?” Bokuto blurted out, suddenly reenergized because he was no longer the butt of the joke.

“Because he’s a wimp.” Kenma replied easily, still focused on his phone.

Kuroo made a devastated noise. He actually looked hurt from that one. 

Kenma just shrugged. “It’s true. You’re weak.”

“You should talk to her. Maybe you’ll finally have a date!” Akaashi said, not even bothering to hide his giggles anymore.

Kuroo shrugged, not looking too convinced. “I dunno…”

“Do you like her?” Akaashi pried, snagging a piece of Bokuto’s cookie and popping it into his mouth.

“ _Go for it!_ ” Bokuto encouraged, face glowing, either completely oblivious to Akaashi’s steal or completely indifferent about it.

“Well, the funny thing is…” Kuroo started to laugh sheepishly but then he started to cough and got even _more flustered_ , so he took a sip of his drink to try and save himself. He didn’t finish the rest of the sentence. As expected.

Both the Fukurodani players stared at Kenma, but the blonde wasn’t helping his captain out. He was leaving Kuroo in the dust, also as expected.

“Kuroo.” Bokuto was grinning ear to ear and rested his hand on his friend’s. “C’mon, I bet you’d be a great boyfriend, bro.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. This conversation was _so stupid_.

“ - _don’trememberher_.” Kuroo was looking down at the table.

“What?”

“I don’t remember her.” Kuroo admitted aloud and the whole table just stared at him with incredulity and mounting glee. “I don’t remember her face or what her hair looked like and _god only knows what her name is_. She may not even go to Nekoma for all I know! Fuck me, ugh…”

Even Kenma was smirking, very inconspicuously, but for people that knew him well it was very easy to see. 

“Idiot.”

“ _Drunk idiot_ , is more like it.” Kuroo slumped onto the table in a grand display of self-deprecation. Bokuto nodded emphatically at the other captain’s words and relocated his hand so he could pat his friend’s head.

Akaashi drank some more coffee and smiled. As ridiculous as things always were, he loved his friends.

The table was silent for a few moments as most of them sat in amused silence as Kuroo let himself wallow in his own regrets. 

The cafe remained consistently not-too-crowded; more people came in to order drinks to go than stay to drink them. It was nice. It was like they had the little hot pink window table to themselves and Akaashi didn’t feel too bad about the group talking too loud about silly things.

He sucked down the rest of his iced coffee, and got up to get a refill since they were free. Their barista had said as much very enthusiastically. Akaashi also took Kuroo’s cup, which was three-quarters empty. The dark-haired captain just made a defeated groaning sound in response that Akaashi took as a thank you. Knowing Kuroo, it probably was.

When he got back with the refilled drinks, he retook his seat next to Bokuto. Kuroo had pulled himself out of it and now the two captains were talking about something that had happened at the party. Kenma was perfectly content on his phone. Akaashi felt pretty content too.

Kenma, while the two captains were chatting animatedly, looked up at the other setter and asked quietly yet genuinely, “How’re you?”

“Okay.” Akaashi replied, a little touched with Kenma’s question. The blonde was very reserved, but he cared about his friends just as much as any of the other three did. He just expressed it in a different, much subtler way. 

“I’m starting hormone therapy next week.”

Kenma nodded and sipped his drink. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” 

Yeah, he had a couple of doctors’ appointments this upcoming week. He was excited, not really nervous. He was pretty sure he was going to get prescribed transdermal patches, but he wasn’t fully sure yet. All the sweating from volleyball might change that if there was gonna be too much of an adhesive issue. But he wasn’t too concerned. He trusted his parents and his doctors (and more importantly, he trusted himself) to make the right decision. 

And he hadn’t really been thinking about it. He’d been too preoccupied with other things, other _people_. Even now, after everything had worked out he still wasn’t really thinking about the therapy. 

Well, _maybe a little_ … But really he was just happy to be with his friends right now, joking and talking and just being happy. 

Akaashi drank more of his coffee and smiled. Yeah, he _was_ happy. 

It was a really nice thought. It felt good to know it was true.

Bokuto was near finishing his recounting of the whole calculus homework debacle to Kuroo, who was listening with slitted and very intrigued golden eyes. 

“That sucks.” Kuroo said when Bokuto had stopped talking. But he looked more amused than empathetic.

“Yeah.” Bokuto whined. “It does suck.”

“Nice work.” Kuroo suddenly averted his eyes to look at Akaashi. “Best prank ever, buddy”

“It wasn’t a prank.” Akaashi rolled his eyes. “I was trying to be a good friend.”

Bokuto made a happy sound and brought Akaashi’s head into a half-headlock and half-hug. Akaashi rolled his eyes but he felt himself warm at the affection.

They didn’t stay too much longer after that. They finished their drinks (even Kenma sucked all of his pink frappe down, much to Kuroo’s horror). Eventually the four of them said their goodbyes and headed back home. Akaashi nodded to them and watched the two walk towards the direction of their houses.

Bokuto still was beside him, smiling and turning on his heels to look at him. “That was fun.”

“Yeah. It always is.”

“I wish we went to the same school.” Bokuto complained and started heading towards the station, Akaashi following him. “I bet Kuroo and I’d be in the same class. You and Kenma too, probably.”

“Then you wouldn’t be able to properly kick his ass in volleyball.”

“Haha, true!” Bokuto barked out a laugh, and swung his arm around Akaashi’s shoulder. “I love kicking his ass.” 

Akaashi moved in closer and let himself lean on the captain a little bit. It was stupid and it made him feel a little ridiculous, but he’d missed touching Bokuto (for goodness sake they had _made out_ after practice, this clinginess was nowhere near justifiable). But he couldn’t help it. He liked all their contact and physical affection, and he knew Bokuto felt the same way.

In all honesty, he wasn’t ready yet for Kuroo or Kenma to know about this. He wasn’t sure if Bokuto was ready either. But they’d talk about it eventually. 

Soon, hopefully. Ambiguity and unclear boundaries had given him enough of a headache recently.

“Hey,” Bokuto started suddenly out of the blue, “so um.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna… come over? My parents won’t mind.”

Akaashi’s lips quirked. “To do homework, right?”

“Yeah, obviously. And have dinner too.” Bokuto’s voice trailed off. “Um, I have a question…”

“Mhm?” 

“Do you still… y’know… have _it_?”

Akaashi snorted. “It hasn’t even been two days yet.”

“I don’t know how long it’s supposed to last!”

“Well, I guess that’d be weird if you _did_.” 

“See? It wasn’t a dumb question!” Bokuto said, his face hot, but he still kept himself _very close_ to the setter.

The heat in his chest was starting to spread through his whole body. “Mine’s usually a week.”

Bokuto made a strangled noise. “ _I’m gonna die._ ”

“ _You’re_ gonna die? You’re not the one bleeding out right now.”

“Okay, sorry, yeah… But. Ugh.” Bokuto licked his bottom lip. “I just. _Y’know_.”

Akaashi suddenly became very aware that they were in public, that people were on the street, that people could see them, _hear them_. A small group of boisterous middle school students were passing them. _Were they paying attention to them?_

Akaashi just swallowed. “ _Yeah_.”

“Fuck.” Bokuto muttered and Akaashi felt his body tense. 

“You okay?”

“I fucking hate hormones.” Bokuto whined in response. 

“I know the feeling.”

“It sucks.”

“Yep.” 

They entered the train station and waited at the correct platform. The electronic timetable flashed that the next train would arrive in three minutes. 

Absolute torture.

They were standing more modestly apart - it was crowded because it was rush hour for the afterwork commuters. The two of them were silent, staring at the ground, trying to not dwell on how warm their bodies were getting or how much they missed being so close.

This was dangerous.

“Uh.” Akaashi tried, voice hushed and wavering a bit, “when I have _it_ , y’know, I get really… _y’know_.”

“Oh.” Bokuto swallowed. He understood.

“And I know you’re like _that_ right now. We both are… And if we go to your house. I just don’t think we’ll be… _productive_.”

“I don’t want to be.” Bokuto said seriously. 

“Me neither.” Akaashi admitted, “But we have to be.”

“Why?”

“We have homework, idiot.”

“And we’ll do it at my house!”

“You sure?” Akaashi pressed, voice even lower, more like a hiss, “Because the last thing I would do right now if I’m sitting in a room with you _alone_ is stare at my textbook.”

“What would you wanna do instead?” Bokuto’s voice was soft, too. Akaashi watched his fingers dig into the material of his school bag, his Adam’s apple bob with his swallow.

The sound of the approaching train blared in the distance.

_I take it back. This is the stupidest thing that has happened all day._

“I’m going home, and so are you.” Akaashi tried to ground himself. He shook his head a bit and averted his gaze. This had to end before it _couldn’t_ be anymore.

“But -“

“End of discussion.”

“Ugh.”

And then they got in the train when it opened its doors with a metallic rumble and an automated _ding!_ And then they transferred to their respective lines to get themselves home, respectively _alone_.

Akaashi, while he sat on his train, whipped out his cell phone and shot Bokuto a quick text.

_sorry it had to be done tho_

The immediate response: _i know but i still wanna touch u. i wanna do everything to u_

If he survived tonight it would be a miracle. 

_Fuck, I need a shower_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _woo woo_
> 
>  
> 
> also: can you tell i like adding unnecessary sexual tension, huh, can you???


	12. It's Even Harder When You're a Horny Teenager

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u all have been so patient (but i have been the most patient) so this is for y’all (and me)

This was fucking stupid. He didn’t have to be making himself miserable like this. 

Akaashi chewed on the inside of his cheek as he continued to stare longingly (obsessively) at his phone screen. Bokuto’s most recent texts to him were pulled up and he’d been staring at them for last ten minutes, all tense and uncomfortable as he rubbed his socked feet together..

>> _i know but i still wanna touch u. i wanna do everything to u_

This really was fucking stupid.

Akaashi had his other hand scratching at his chest. He had changed into a comfy oversized t-shirt that felt really nice on his skin and comfy athletic shorts after his half-an-hour long shower. His hair was still wet.

And admittedly so was he.

He took a deep breath, and on the exhale it began to shudder the slightest bit. _Fuck_ these _fucking hormones_. They were the reason that his fingers were twitching all the time, the reason why he was soaking through his underwear and bleeding out and bloated and cramping and _fucking starving_ and feeling just wholly miserable. _Fuck them_. 

When he started his hormone therapy, he hoped, prayed, that the first fucking thing to happen was that his menstrual cycle stopped because being slicked up with discharge was one thing, but being soaked with blood and shredded uterine lining was another.

Good riddance.

Akaashi started to type back a text to Bokuto for the fifth time in ten minutes, but he bit his lip instead, threw his phone down and cursed. No. Not yet. 

If he texted the captain, it would devolve into a sexting war. It’d be that Saturday night phone call all over again. Yeah, he’d get off, but was that what he wanted? Shaking from head to toe with his fingers rubbing unsatisfactorily over his underwear because he didn’t want his fingers to get gross and bloody? With Bokuto’s voice coated in static as he whispered into the receiver, moaning about how much they wanted to fuck each other but couldn’t yet?

Akaashi groaned. _No_ , that’s not what he really wanted. But it sounded really good right now.

Fuck fuck fuck _fuck_ .

But still, what was the point of _this_? Why was he holding things off? They’ve done this before, they’ve done it a couple of times before, so what was stopping him now? From picking up that phone and putting his hand down his pants? Why all of a sudden was it so important to make this so special? It was just sex. Sex wasn’t special. This whole thing started off as a casual thing, so why did it suddenly become anything but?

Honestly, it was stupid. He couldn’t be alone with these thoughts. He’d argued and reasoned with himself about this whole Bokuto thing for weeks, and he had yet to come up with any real answers for himself. And he’d run out of bullshit a while ago, so he needed to be able to get some actual solutions ( _or new bullshit at least_ ) from another, less frazzled brain.

Akaashi laughed. But if only he had another brain to pick.

Usually, the first person he asked for advice was his mom. But that wasn’t an option. Him and his mom were close, and they talked about everything, but asking for advice on sexual relationships was the last thing he wanted to do. He couldn’t stomach her knowing all this about him. Her knowing what he did in his spare time, _who_ he did in his spare time… He wasn’t ready to cross that bridge now, if ever.

And, funnily enough, Bokuto was the next in line, but that was a no for obvious reasons.

Also anyone on the volleyball team was also not a good idea to confer in. He wasn’t ready for them to know that he was fucking the captain. Not yet, at least.

Going beyond school… Kuroo was also a bad idea. Because… Kuroo was honest _yeah_ , but it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t make this whole conversation into a joke. Kuroo was just as awkward and sex-starved (if not moreso) and he’d probably make this all about sex (which it was kinda about, but it went deeper than that, _really_ ). And he’d ask about details, how far have they’ve gone? How loud was Bokuto? How big? How long it took for Bokuto to make him come? 

Akaashi didn’t want the interrogation or the jokes. He needed help.

But all who was left was Kenma. 

The blonde was nowhere near the top of the list of people he’d ask for relationship advice from but… then again, Kenma was good. He was honest and blunt when he needed to be. And he cared about Akaashi. He cared about all his friends. And he’d hear him out, because even if Kenma kept to himself, he knew how to listen and how to do it seriously and without overwhelming judgement, and then how to give back the most objective advice he could possibly give.

Akaashi’s stomach churned at the idea but… it wasn’t so overwhelming or unbearable. It’s not like there was any other candidates.

So he dialed Kenma’s number.

“Hi,” came the flat reply after barely one ring, with the barest edge of surprise detectable in his voice.

“Sorry,” Akaashi said as he shifted on his bed, “I just… needed to talk to someone about…something.”

“Okay.” Kenma said easily, his tone unchanging.

“Is Kuroo with you?” Akaashi asked cautiously.

“He went home fifteen minutes ago.”

“Ahh, good. Okay.”

Kenma didn’t say anything to that. Akaashi knew he was waiting for him to speak, because this was his phone call. He called Kenma after all - the person who was gonna be doing the talking was him. All him.

And Kenma was smart enough to pick up that the other setter had some things he really needed to get off his chest.

Akaashi wasn’t that emotionally expressive. He had trouble sorting his feelings in his own head, much less discussing them with other people. Kenma was the same way, too, and he patient and empathetic enough to give Akaashi space to prepare himself. So the Fukurodani setter breathed in and breathed out, fiddled with his shirt as he tried to compose himself. The best course of action was to just be simple and honest, for his sake and Kenma’s.

“It’s about Bokuto.”

“Okay.”

“ _Me_ and Bokuto, really.” Akaashi clarified, curling onto his side in bed as he got comfortable for this uncomfortable conversation, “We’re… _something_ right now. More than friends, but I don’t even know what to call it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Kenma was quiet for a moment before asking in a much more neutral tone, “How long?”

“It’s… complicated. We’ve been more - official? honest about it? - since Sunday morning, but we’ve been… I don’t know how to phrase it better…”

“I get it.”

“You do?” Akaashi asked, a slight relief washing over him.

“Yeah. You’ve been physically intimate, right?” 

Akaashi’s face felt a little hot. “Yeah. That’s it.”

Kenma made an affirming noise into the phone. It almost sounded bored.

“We just- well, _really me_ … I just don’t know how to handle it.” 

The words suddenly started coming easier, flowing up through his throat and out to the receiver and emptying onto Kenma like a gaping hole in a dam, “Bokuto knows how to handle it, though. Everything’s so simple for him. _You know how he is_. He likes me. He likes me a lot, and he wants to date me. End of story. But it’s a lot harder for me. I know I like him, I do, I know I do but… I don’t know what I want… what’s feasible, y’know…?”

Kenma waited a moment after Akaashi had finished word-vomiting to say, “It sounds like you like him.”

“I do!” Akaashi said, trying not to sound whiney, “That’s what I just said.”

“Then why are you worried?”

The words weren’t anywhere near patronizing or annoyed or judgmental. They were just that- a question. And it wasn’t really Kenma asking it, because Kenma didn’t need to know the answer. Akaashi did. Kenma was good at this kind of stuff, getting people to think about things for themselves, discover the answers on their own. 

Akaashi eventually sighed, “I don’t know.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well…” the setter exhaled, flexing his toes, “…I feel like I _can’t_.”

“Can’t date him?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because… it just doesn’t seem right.” Kenma was quiet and wasn’t saying anything, so Akaashi started to speak again, to fill the thick silence, to keep his accusatory and self-conscious thoughts from overwhelming him, “He should want someone else. Someone more like him. Something loud and energetic and affectionate and - uh, less… _selfish_.”

“Akaashi -“

“I’m not good enough for him. I’m gonna do something that’s going to _hurt him_ and he’s going to be miserable. And he’s going off to university next year and it’s just not convenient and both of us are gonna-”

“You’re a good person.” Kenma interrupted. He didn’t sound bored anymore.

“I’ve made him _cry_ , Kenma. He’s been dejected and crying a lot recently because of _me_. Because I wouldn’t let us just jump into this; just do everything blindly. But it’s my fault. I let him touch me first, I started this, and I won’t finish it. I’m too scared to.”

“It sounds like you want to finish it.”

“I _do_. I just _can’t_.”

“Why?”

“Kenma, I wouldn’t have called you if I knew.”

“Fair enough.” Kenma replied, and Akaashi heard him faintly sigh into his phone receiver.

Akaashi wasn’t finished unloading his anxieties yet, because he kept talking even though he didn’t want to. “And what would everyone say? Would it mess up the team? Would people treat Bokuto differently? He’s more popular at school and he’s more involved socially and I don’t want him to get pushed away and isolated because he’s dating _me_.”

His throat was starting to constrict and he felt unstable. He hadn’t cried for a long, long time. 

And he didn’t want to start now.

Kenma could definitely pick up on that, too. He wasn’t talking or reasoning with him: he was giving Akaashi time to breathe, to relax, to calm down. It was a few minutes before Kenma said anything, only when he was sure his friend was okay to hear it.

“You’re only being selfish to yourself.”

“But I’m not-“

“Yes, you are. You’re not letting yourself be happy because you don’t think you deserve it.”

_Ouch._

“You like Bokuto. And he likes you. Let yourself do the things you want to do. It’s not fair to yourself or him to only do things halfway. You’re okay being with him physically, but you have to be okay with him emotionally, too. Or both of you are gonna be miserable.”

“We both already are.” Akaashi muttered.

“Because you’re not making any solid decisions about any of this.”

Akaashi felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. “You’re really blunt.”

“It sounds like you need someone to be, because you obviously aren’t being firm with yourself.”

Akaashi snorted. “Thanks.”

Kenma took a moment before saying, his voice carrying just the faintest hint of amusement “You want to go over and see him now, right?”

Akaashi blurted easily, “Yes,” because lying to Kenma was impossible.

“Just do it. Let yourself do what you want. Just make sure it’s meaningful. And let Bokuto know it is.”

Akaashi smiled privately into the phone. “Thank you. I mean it.”

“Tell him you like him back before you start doing something gross.”

Akaashi’s smile grew wider, his reply more of a laugh, “Sure thing.”

“I’m serious. If you don’t make things clear that you like him and want to date or that you don’t like him and want to stop, you both will keep being unhappy.”

Akaashi’s smile only grew, even though he was being scolded, “I will.”

“Good.”

Calling Kenma had been the right decision.

But before he ended the conversation, before he said his final thanks, he had to return the favor.

“Hey, if you ever want to talk to someone about anything, you can call me.” 

Because even though Kenma kept his lips sealed and his face blank, Akaashi knew. He saw the way that the blonde looked at Kuroo differently, the way he let him closer, the way he spent all his time with him. He knew. And Kenma knew that Akaashi knew, and they kept that quiet and tacit between them. It’s how it had been for a while, and when Kuroo did something stupid or said something that made Akaashi hurt for Kenma, they’d share a look or later a hand on the shoulder and things would be okay, at least for the moment.

“I won’t say anything to Kuroo,” was all Kenma said to that. But he got the message, and Akaashi knew.

“We’ll tell him when everything’s sorted out. Thanks again.”

“Mm.”

“Bye, Kenma.”

“Night.”

And Kenma hung up first.

Akaashi dialed the captain’s number as soon as he could. Bokuto picked up on the second ring, out of breath like he had sprinted to answer the call. Knowing him, he probably had.

“Akaashi!” He said, voice full of something good, “What’s up?”

“Are you doing anything right now?” He tried not to make his voice noticeably nervous.

“No, why?”

“Can I… come over?” Akaashi asked quietly, nervously.

Bokuto made a noise that wasn’t quite a word. He understood. “Y-yeah. Now, if you want. Come now. Please.”

Akaashi breathed into the receiver, “Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Bokuto said before hanging up quickly, and it made Akaashi smile a bit.

This hopefully was going to be as easy as Kenma said it was.

—

It wasn’t as easy as Kenma said it was. 

Asking his mom to borrow the car was easy. Driving it over to Bokuto’s was also easy. But walking up to the front door in nothing but pajama-esque attire and no school bag (fuck that looked so suspicious what the fuck Akaashi) was very, very _not easy_.

He didn’t know whether to text the captain or just ring the doorbell. He didn’t even want to go inside anymore.

If he went inside, he’d have to make a choice, a weighty decision. Yeah, he’d also make Bokuto have the best orgasm of his life, but before that he’d have to talk about his feelings first.

Yeah, this wasn’t easy at all.

Akaashi was about to turn on his heel and shuffle back to his car to work up some courage before trying again when the front door opened and revealed a completely ecstatic-looking Bokuto.

Fuck.

“Come on in!” Bokuto said cheerily. But in his eyes, Akaashi saw the same emotions and thoughts swirling around his gut earlier on tonight. That need, _that cloying need_.

Akaashi nodded helplessly. Then he followed the captain wordlessly into his house, shutting the door and kicking off his shoes and then up the stairs towards his bedroom. Bokuto was practically skipping up the stairs, and called out in a sing-song voice, “Mom! Dad! I have a friend over for a group project!”

“Alright! Don’t stay up too late!”

“We won’t!!”

Akaashi bowed as he went up the stairs, but neither of Bokuto’s parents saw because they were in another room so instead he called out, “Sorry for intruding!” as he chased Bokuto to his bedroom.

He was pulled into the captain’s bedroom and the door was immediately shut, almost banged closed. Akaashi yelped as he was grabbed by both his shoulders and shook by the captain. 

“Why’d you do this to me!?”

“Huh?” This was nowhere near where he thought this scenario was about to go.

“You could’ve just come home with me after the cafe!” Bokuto whined and touched his forehead to Akaashi’s. “Do you know how miserable I’ve been since then?”

Akaashi tried to smile, but it probably just looked weird. “Sorry…”

“Dude, I haven’t been so into jerking off since I discovered jerking off.”

This was too much.

Akaashi’s entire face went slack, and he felt boneless in the captain’s grip. He was just staring at Bokuto’s pout, and he found himself blurting without thinking, “I made myself come twice in the shower.”

“This is why you should’ve come over, dummy!!”

Bokuto’s face was overcome by a hot blush, but he still had that indignant look on his face. But this time, instead of whining more, he tilted his head to the side and pressed his mouth to Akaashi’s in a slow yet strong kiss. 

The setter inhaled sharply, taken off guard, but he let himself melt into it because he really wanted to. His awkward arms, stiff at his sides were now wrapping around the captain’s sweatpants-covered waist and squeezed at his hips. Bokuto made a satisfied noise in his throat as he brought his hands up to Akaashi’s scalp and started to play with his hair.

This was exactly what he needed. What he wanted.

“I’m gonna make you come a third time.” Bokuto breathed in his mouth, and his hands started to pull at his hair. Little sparks shot down his neck and spine and Akaashi felt himself turn to jelly and his underwear (he changed it before he came over because it was fucking gross) was starting to get a little hot. He had a tampon in, so he was a little cleaner that he would be, but he could feel himself still getting gross.

Akaashi pushed Bokuto away, unlocking their mouths. Bokuto’s eyes were dilated and he was about to ask a billion questions before he shushed him.

Bokuto just looked even more confused.

“Hold on,” Akaashi forced himself to say, “I need to, uh, say something.”

Bokuto still looked confused, but now he also looked scared. “Okay…”

“No, stop.” Akaashi tried to sound reassuring but his nerves were fraying his own poorly-put together resolve and he must’ve looked so ridiculous, “It’s not bad, I promise.”

That didn’t make Bokuto look any better.

“I…” And Akaashi was looking down at his socked feet as if they would give him the confidence to tell the boy he liked that he liked him, “Uh… I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For making you miserable. I’m too emotionally disorganized. What I’ve done to you is awful, and I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Akaashi, it’s okay…” Bokuto’s face was probably softening, his voice sounded so gentle and less worried and touched but the setter was still too weak to make eye-contact.

“No, just let me finish, please.” 

Akaashi lifted his head and smiled but still he couldn’t meet the captain’s gaze. It was hard, trying to force himself to say the actual difficult part, the part that made him a wreck for weeks, the part that almost made him cry on the phone with Kenma earlier, the part that if it had been said earlier on in this whole thing then maybe Bokuto wouldn’t have cried.

He had to say it. There was no way around it.

But being brave was a lot harder than it sounded. But he had to do it, for him but for Bokuto.

“I like you.” He said with a weak voice, because it was better to say it that way than to not say it at all. “I like you a lot.”

Bokuto was attempting not to smile so blindingly bright because even he could see Akaashi wasn’t finished speaking yet.

(Bokuto’s perceptiveness with these situations was always so surprising.)

“I don’t want to feel like I’m denying myself anymore. I don’t want to have to tell myself that I shouldn’t want to kiss you all the time, that I don’t need to hold your hand or want to spend all my time with you. I don’t wanna do that anymore… because it sucks. I wanna do that stuff with you. I like you. And I want this to be a thing.”

Bokuto was unable to keep himself from making a small, gaspy giggly noise. He looked like he was gonna cry, but in a good way this time. A very good way that was making Akaashi’s chest not feel all leaden anymore.

“Like… a dating thing?” Bokuto asked, voice thick, way too hopeful.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

Bokuto wrapped his arms around Akaashi’s shoulders and squeezed the life out of him. Akaashi was having trouble breathing, but it didn’t matter, because things were okay right now. His heart was still hammering a mile a minute and anxiety was still bubbling in his gut, but he was okay. Bokuto liked him, and he liked him back. He knew that already, but now it felt secure, more tangible, real. 

It felt good. really good.

Akaashi wrapped his arms around him in a less-bone-crushing hug, but Bokuto still squeaked at the reciprocation. “I’m so happy. _I’m so fucking happy, Akaashi._ ”

“Me too.” Akaashi said. And he meant it.

Bokuto planted a big kiss and rubbed at his back, nuzzling him and cuddling him and making Akaashi feel all fuzzy. This was what a relationship was. Touching. Lots of touching. Warm, very warm.

Good.

“Hey,” Akaashi wheezed, snuggling back as he felt himself suffocating, “can I ask something?”

“Mhm!”

“If I wanted to finally make good on that subpar blowjob promise… could I do it now?”

Bokuto suddenly stopped actively squeezing the life out of him. Instead Akaashi felt his breathing stutter and a second later he was pulling away and stepping back, gaping at Akaashi with an unreadable expression.

“You just told me you liked me. And now you wanna suck me off.”

Akaashi gulped heavily and shrugged his shoulders. Fuck, okay, that wasn’t smooth at all. This was supposed to be meaningful. Now he just felt like the horny teenager he hated that he was, and wished he could retract those words and go back to that warm cuddling that kept him from breathing. “Sorry, I don’t have to. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“No.” Bokuto said instantly. His voice sounded weird. “Don’t be.”

“What?”

“I think I love you.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Akaashi, no! I mean it! No one’s ever this nice -“

Okay, maybe he was thankful that he was in fact a horny teenager. Apparently, it came in handy.

(Only when he was dealing with other horny teenagers.)

“I said shut up.” Akaashi lowered his voice and pushed Bokuto towards his bed with a (hopefully) heated look. “Sit down and spread your legs.”

Akaashi loved the way he could see the throb that wracked the captain’s entire body, how he could see all the blood heading south way before Bokuto’s sweatpants started to tent.

“S-sure.”

Akaashi licked his bottom lip.

 _That’s_ when Bokuto’s pants started to tent.

Akaashi grinned wickedly and continued to lightly guide Bokuto backwards towards his own bed. As expected, Bokuto’s room wasn’t a tidy space. There were worn clothes, sneakers, books, magazines, food wrappers all over the floor and so many other random things it was a wonder Bokuto didn’t trip or fall on his ass while moving blindly and clumsily through the mess. Akaashi kinda thought it was endearing. Maybe it was so messy all the time that he memorized the nuances of the mess. Organized chaos at its finest, he supposed.

Bokuto fell back onto the bed with a bounce when the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He was staring up at Akaashi in awe. It made him feel powerful (and a little more turned on, too).

The setter kicked some crap piled on the floor away and made a space for himself. Then Akaashi carefully dropped to his knees and looked up at Bokuto’s face.

The captain just moaned. He was completely at the setter’s mercy.

Akaashi smiled up, trying to look confident. Outwardly he was doing a good job, but inside, those nerves were back and blossoming and growing and taking root in the very base of his being.

He didn’t really know what he was doing, after all. He’d never blown anyone before.

But there was something about Bokuto powerless before him, staring down at him with vulnerable eyes and a growing erection in his pants that made Akaashi feel slightly more at ease, more inclined to believe that a blowjob wasn’t as complicated as he felt it was. 

Akaashi licked his lips again, because Bokuto seemed to like that, and he was instantly rewarded with Bokuto covering his mouth with his palm and groaning into it. This was almost funny how easy this was.

“Hey,” Akaashi ventured, his voice still low from before as he leaned his head forward and rubbed his cheek against Bokuto’s swelling, clothed cock, “What were you thinking about when you were jerking off earlier?”

“You.” Bokuto croaked into his fingers.

“What about me? Were you thinking about me doing things to you?” Akaashi prodded, and turned his head a bit so he could brush his nose against the growing bulge. He’d heard people talk about sex, about oral sex, how people liked this kinda stuff. How this kinda thing felt good but not good enough. How it was teasing, but such good teasing though. How it drove people to thoughtlessness, to a place without words. Akaashi wanted Bokuto to be lost like that.

“You… you were letting me eat you out.” Bokuto swallowed, and tipped his head back when Akaashi braved his fingers to rub him through his clothes. 

Akaashi’s insides were aching, and it wasn’t from menstrual cramps. “Oh. I was?”

“You wanted me to suck your clit while I had my fingers in you. So I did it. And you liked it.”

 _God, yes he did_. That is definitely something he liked. He wanted to be stretched and licked and sucked and _everything_. Akaashi stroked the bulge harder and reveled in the way Bokuto tensed up and let out a small whine.

“Sounds really good.” Akaashi agreed, his voice husky, the heel of his palm grinding at what he was sure was the tip of Bokuto’s length.

“Yeah.” The response was nothing but an exhale. “I like this better though.”

Akaashi’s lips quirked. “You getting pleasured instead of me?”

“No! You actually being here instead of me pretending with my hand.”

“…that’s kinda sweet.”

“I like you.” Bokuto said, trying to smile genuinely but his face kept contorting when a wave of pleasure crashed through him.

Akaashi looked up into his eyes, and his hand stopped moving. Instead he blurted, because he felt compelled to say it because Bokuto didn’t actually deserve a subpar blowjob at all. “I have no idea what I’m doing, by the way.”

Bokuto snorted. “That’s okay.”

“But I want this to feel good. Amazing, actually.”

“I’ll tell you what to do if you need help, okay?”

“Okay.”

The anxiety in his tummy was starting to fizzle away, and in its place was washed over by a heavy hot feeling that Akaashi could only describe as happy arousal.

Bokuto smiled down at him, and Akaashi smiled up too. And then he told him, “Take off your pants, Bo.”

Bokuto’s smile only widened as he maneuvered his body awkwardly yet strangely easily and managed to fling his sweatpants onto the floor, to join the rest of the mess. 

He was just in his boxer briefs on his lower half, and Akaashi was staring shamelessly at the wet smear where the head apparently was. He reached his hand out and started to glide his fingers up and down the strained, covered length and Bokuto tensed again. 

“Is that okay?”

Bokuto just nodded his head quickly. 

Akaashi applied more pressure, more friction as he went on, and Bokuto’s hips jerked every so often, trying to get more sensation. That was hot, that seemingly automatic reaction to just get more and it made something inside him twinge and feel compelled to lurch forward and lick a wet stripe up the captain’s covered cock underneath the soft, damp hot fabric.

Bokuto’s hand was over his mouth, but instead of a sound he just bucked his hips and shivered.

Akaashi kept that up, the licking and rubbing through the fabric. It was already moist and the outline of Bokuto’s cock was more prevalent, and Akaashi paid specific attention to all the places he knew felt good, the tip, the bottom ridge, just going up and down. He was getting the hang of this, and Bokuto was making little grunting noises that were making him feel dizzy.

“Hey,” Bokuto groaned desperately into his hand, “can you take off my underwear? _Please?_ ”

Akaashi stopped mid-lick and flicked his eyes back up to the captain’s. Bokuto’s face was flushed with strain and his jaw looked uncomfortably rigid, and he had this pleading look in his eyes. Then it dawned on Akaashi.

He was being an enormous tease. Way too much, way past the allowable limits.

“Sorry!” Akaashi mumbled, his own face heating up and horror filling his bones. He averted his gaze and instead fumbled with Bokuto’s underwear, trying to slide them down enough to free his cock, but it was a lot more difficult than it looked, and the nerves were back and stronger than ever and made him fumble when he shouldn’t.

Bokuto mumbled a quick _hey hey its okay don’t be nervous that felt amazing I just am ready for more_ and picked up his hips enough so Akaashi could bring down his underwear all the way down to his ankles.

The first thing Akaashi noticed was the smell. It smelled like sex, like salt, like _Bokuto_ , like so many things that were making his head spin. And next he noticed that there was a dick in his face and he was supposed to shove it into his mouth.

_Great._

Why was he so nervous about this? Probably because it meant something this time around.

Fuck.

Akaashi looked anywhere but Bokuto’s face as he dragged his tongue from base to tip. Bokuto whined into his hand and tilted his head back, sounding absolutely relieved. Akaashi did it again and Bokuto’s reaction was pretty much the same.

“That’s good.” Bokuto spread his thighs a little wider and Akaashi could feel the weight of him smiling down at him. “You’re doing a good job.”

Akaashi knew he was just saying that to make him feel better. He hadn’t done anything yet. Really, the only thing he did was tease him until he had to be told to stop because it was uncomfortable or painful or just grossly unsatisfying. 

He was nervous still, so inadequately and unconfidently nervous so instead of taking him into his mouth (like Bokuto was desperate for) he spat onto the head of his cock and watched the captain’s mouth hang open. In disbelief? In disgust? In something good? Akaashi’s mind was swirling with those thoughts as his hand started to twist and squeeze up his length in place of his lips. His mouth instead landed on Bokuto’s thighs and started to suck little bites and bruises along the flesh. Leaving marks on skin and slippery hand jobs were safe territory right now, so he allowed himself to collect his bearings by burying his face in Bokuto’s thighs and making the captain feel good in ways he knew how.

Each little nip and bit of suction made Bokuto react, and Akaashi was becoming more and more worried about them getting caught. The door wasn’t locked. The walls weren’t soundproofed, and Bokuto was… loud. And it didn’t sound like they were remotely working on any project that a school would ever assign. But Bokuto didn’t seem to be concerned, if anything, it seemed to be not even a remotely important issue because he just let himself freely react and moan and gasp to every sensation that he felt.

Why wasn’t this a concern for him? Had he done this kinda thing before with someone in his room? With his parents home? And awake?

Akaashi didn’t care if he had. It didn’t mean anything if he had or hadn’t, it wasn’t his business to even dwell on. Bokuto was his boyfriend now, and that’s all that mattered.

_Boyfriend._

Akaashi perked up at that thought. Boyfriend. He had a _boyfriend_. And it was _Bokuto_. 

It was a really good realization. It felt incredible. Empowering, even.

Akaashi’s nips faded into kisses, and Bokuto’s little noises dimmed back and it morphed into labored breathing. Then a tiny registering noise and a giggle, and then hands were in the setter’s hair. 

“You’re cute,” Bokuto cooed. “So, so cute.”

Akaashi looked up for the first time in a few minutes and nuzzled his nose into the juncture where thigh met knee, “You too.”

Bokuto’s flushed as his giggles escalated. But then the giggles changed into a hitched moan when Akaashi pulled back the foreskin and started to mercilessly rub at his swollen, leaky head.

“Especially when you sound like that,” Akaashi teased and kissed his kneecap.

“Put your mouth on me.” Bokuto whimpered, pleaded. “Do that with your tongue.”

“Okay,” and it was okay this time, because he wasn’t as nervous. He leaned up on his haunches and gripped the base of Bokuto’s prick and wrapped his lips around the tip and began to suck.

Bokuto swore into his hand.

These obscene little wet noises were prickling Akaashi’s ears as he swirled his tongue around the head, letting all the saliva he could spare drip down and coat Bokuto in spit. His mouth felt so hot and Bokuto’s cock felt even hotter, and he liked it. It felt filthy, the kind of filthy Akaashi fantasized about when he was playing his clit or fucking his fingers into himself, the kind of filthy that made his cunt soak through his clothes and ache. The kind of filthy that trickled down his spine when Bokuto whispered things into his ear and how much he wanted to make him feel good.

It was filthy and it tasted like flesh. Not particularly good or bad, it just tasted like skin, like a _person_. And Akaashi liked it. A lot. 

Did he taste like this? 

He moaned and the pressure of his suction increased, and Bokuto’s hand, still in his hair, tugged Akaashi’s face forward as his thighs quivered. 

_Ugh. Yes. Just like that. Move me where you want me to go._

Akaashi suddenly had the overwhelming desire to gag. Gag on his cock, feel used, like a fucking object.

_What the fuck._

He followed his hormonal urges anyway, and opened his jaw and started to slide his mouth down Bokuto’s prick. Stifled noises were all Akaashi heard (Bokuto was probably biting his hand) as he moved slowly but surely down him, taking as many centimeters of Bokuto that he could.

Which, albeit wasn’t very much at first because it was barely halfway in his mouth when he first started to choke.

Bokuto trembled immediately after the gag and he squeaked out, “Are you okay?”

Akaashi hummed around the cock in his mouth, but it made him gag again and Bokuto’s eyes shut and let this guttural sound out into his fingers. Akaashi would put money on his inkling that getting gagged on felt incredible.

It was his throat constricting, after all. It was like a squeeze. A warm, wet sudden and tight squeeze.

( _When you finally get inside me it’ll feel even better_.)

Akaashi pulled off and started to jerk Bokuto off again, wiping the spit in the corner of his mouth as he asked, his voice a little gravelly “When I gag does it feel good?”

“Don’t make yourself gag, please.”

Akaashi smiled. “I won’t. Just curious.”

“I’m serious. Don’t puke on my dick.”

Akaashi burst out into laughter. “Is that a thing?”

“Yeah! At the party this weekend, I was talking to a guy on the Nekoma baseball team and the first time his girlfriend went down on him she’s fucking spewed all over his lap.”

“Ew.”

“That’s what I’m saying! Don’t do that!”

“Copy.” Akaashi winked before he went back down and took the tip again into his mouth and resumed the firm sucking that made Bokuto melt.

“Ugh, yes. You’re doing great. Just don’t hurt yourself.” Bokuto praised, and his hand was in Akaashi’s hair and was pulling it again and Akaashi’s insides still throbbed with every tug. 

Akaashi pulled away with a wet pop. “That sounded rude.”

“I didn’t mean it to be!”

“Just kidding.” And Akaashi went back down with a snicker and started to retake his cock into his mouth and began to experiment with shallow bobbing, careful with his teeth and generous with his tongue.

That seemed to be a good thing because the sounds that Bokuto made were something Akaashi had never heard before. And the hair pulling was getting rougher, hard enough that it was close to actually hurting, and Akaashi felt like he was melting into a puddle of his own neediness

“Yeah, like that.” Bokuto whispered.

Akaashi had figured yet how to regulate his breathing so he felt a little heady as he sunk down further, testing his limits, finding himself able to swallow a little more down his throat, barely any more but it was _something_ , and Bokuto was smiling and panting and gasping out little _yes_ es that let Akaashi know that this was okay, more than okay.

So he kept up the bobbing, and the hair pulling only continued and harshened and Akaashi felt just as gross as he had before he had called Kenma earlier. It wasn’t in his boxers, dirtying the fabric, but he could feel it inside himself, plugged away with the tampon. But he felt it, the gross heat, that slick that begged to be fucked into.

( _Fuck me, Bokuto, I want you in me_.)

“Play with my balls.” Bokuto whined out suddenly, “Gentle.”

Akaashi did as he was instructed and let his fingertips glide over the neglected skin of the captain’s sac. He exhaled slowly as they rubbed gently on them, just how he said, but Bokuto continued, “Hold them, but still do that with your fingers -“

_Like this?_

“ -yeah, just like that. Oh, _fuck_.”

His mind wandered back to the moment, weeks ago, when Bokuto offered to go down on him. How his had tongue flicked around down there, his fingers exploring and curious, how his lips had sucked. It hadn’t been mind-blowing, but it had been good. How could someone down there not be good?

Akaashi’s mind was spinning. He wanted that mouth on him again. But… this time around, would Bokuto be better? 

Most likely.

It’d mean a whole lot more, too. Because last time was casual. 

This wasn’t casual anymore.

Especially with the way Bokuto’s lips were slurring out all these embarrassing things. Not just _fucks_ and _that’s goods_ but also _you’re perfects_ and _you’re mine, you’re all mine_ and something that suspiciously sounded like _I love yous_ gasped out into silent breaths that both of them knew they weren’t ready for but Bokuto couldn’t stop himself from saying anyway.

Yeah, next time would be a whole lot different.

Akaashi wanted, needed to rock into his own curled fingers and give himself a little relief, a little friction, but he had both hands on Bokuto, and he didn’t want to stop that. Bokuto wouldn’t want that, either. Especially the way his thighs kept twitching, and his noises were getting less decipherable, and the grip in Akaashi’s hair was pulling hair out he was fucking sure of that. Bokuto was building, climbing, getting all _warm_ and _good_ and _high_ and he didn’t want Bokuto to stop.

Fuck, how was he gonna let him finish? On his face, hands, swallow it?

Swallowing was probably what Bokuto wanted. 

_He was gonna swallow come._

Why was he even dwelling on that? It’s not like Akaashi didn’t suck his own fingers clean after he was done fingerfucking himself. 

C’mon, now. He was a big boy, he could do this.

Dammit. he just wanted to touch himself. _So, so bad._

“Fuck.” Bokuto swore, his hips rolling into Akaashi’s mouth.

_All in good time._

Akaashi continued to bob, trying to take in more and more, but he could only get so far without making his throat spasm and Bokuto crying out, horrified that Akaashi gagging felt so fucking incredible. 

His skin was darkening, flushing with pounding, hot blood. Bokuto’s fingers kept flexing, unconsciously pulling Akaashi down farther on his drippy, twitchy prick, trying to get himself down to the hilt and nudging against the back of Akaashi’s impossibly hot, wet throat. 

Akaashi just kept gagging though, hiccuping strangled noises with tears prickling the corners of his eyes, his jaw aching, his fingers slippery with all the sweat and precum and drool they were twisting and jerking with on the bottom half of the length that the setter just couldn’t manage to swallow down.

Alright, throwing up didn’t seem like such a farfetched possibility anymore.

“-Gonna come, _oh my god_ -“

_Please, c’mon already._

Bokuto was quaking and holding Akaashi closer and tighter, not letting him move away, pulling him down deeper - it was a good call to expect he wanted to come in his mouth - and Akaashi was making louder, struggling noises in the back of his throat more from strain than from enjoyment, and Bokuto must have registered it as the latter because he was smiling stupidly with his hazy eyes and saying all these filthy loving things in his higher-pitched voice as he pushed closer, closer _closer_.

“ _Keiji Keiji Keiji!_ ”

Bokuto choked on his name, his first name, and Akaashi’s whole body froze and contracted and throbbed like nothing had this entire night. _Say it again. I like that. Why do I like that so much?_

But the throb had him feeling more ambitious so he tried to swallow down more even though he knew he couldn’t, _you deserve it Bokuto you treat me so good_ , but that wasn’t a good idea because the strongest gag yet made Akaashi actually feel like he was about to puke. And Bokuto liked it, _loved it_ , and it was the tipping point because that moment a shot of what could only be Bokuto’s come hit the back of his throat and Akaashi wanted to _die_ .

Well, he definitely _swallowed_. But hopefully it’d stay down.

Akaashi shoved Bokuto off of him so he could actually fill his lungs with air and _breathe_ and dry-heave properly without a dick in his mouth to suffocated him and trigger his gag reflex. _Ow ow ow_. 

The captain was absolutely terrified, watching Akaashi crumple on the floor as he tried to keep everything in his stomach exactly where it was.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” Bokuto squeaked, his face still flushed and his body clumsy and still shuddery from his orgasm only seconds ago. He got onto the floor on his unsteady legs and tried to rub Akaashi’s back. But Akaashi held up a hand, and tried to show that he was okay. And he was, really. He didn’t puke. That had to count for something.

But his stomach burned and he was definitely crying. So there was that. But, mostly, he was fine. Really.

“Fuck, why didn’t you stop me?” Bokuto continued, covering his mouth in guilty horror, his other hand still outstretched, wanting to touch the setter, comfort him. “I didn’t want you to get hurt but I still hurt you anyway… If you want to break up I’d understand, _oh god_.”

“I’m fine!” Akaashi coughed. “Seriously!”

“You’re not!”

“I am, too!”

“You’re dry heaving, bro!”

“I just need to get the hang of this!”

“Akaashi, you don’t-“

“Stop, okay?” Akaashi gulped, looking up, eyes narrowed and blinking away the leftover tears. “It’s okay. Stop apologizing for me giving you a shitty blowjob.”

“It wasn’t shitty!” Bokuto exclaimed, new horror overtaking his features. “Not even remotely.”

“C’mon.” Akaashi took a deep breath, his coughing and gagging for the most part finished. 

“ _You swallowed._ ”

Akaashi shrugged. “I mean, yeah. I did. So?”

“Not a lot of people do that, bro.” 

The severity in the captain’s voice had Akaashi’s cheeks heating up. 

“You’re fucking amazing.” Bokuto repeated, passionate warmth in his eyes. “Really.”

“Thanks.”

Akaashi took another greedy lungful of air, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and wiping it uncaringly on his shirt. It was just drool, nothing incriminating for his mom to find.

They were quiet for a moment, just heavy breathing filling the vacuum of the room. Then, Bokuto broke the silence with a slight affectionate tremble in his words, “Are you okay enough for me to kiss you?”

Akaashi gave a shaky smile of his own, “Yeah. I am.”

“Okay enough to get on my bed and make out?” Bokuto asked, not waiting for an answer as he scooped up the setter in his arms and plopped him onto his mattress, climbing on top of him and starting to suck enthusiastically at his neck. “Okay enough for me to return the favor?”

Akaashi gasped, squirming underneath the touch, his nerves desperate and thankful for the touch after going so long without anything but a little hair pulling. This was not how he thought things would go afterwards. It was a whole lot better. 

“I still have it…”

“So? It’s just a little blood.”

“I have a tampon in.” 

Heat prickled in all his limbs, and he wrapped himself around Bokuto for dear life as teeth scraped at all the right places. No, this was not how he thought things would go at all. Never in a million years would he think someone would offer to eat him out when he was on his period.

Why did that sound so fucking _appealing_ , too? Why was that such a fucking turn on?

“You could take it out.” Bokuto offered into his neck, his words all fuzzy like Akaashi’s head was stuffed full of cotton balls. The sucks were turning into bites that made Akaashi moan and feel so small, so weak and useless underneath Bokuto on the mattress. “I wanna make you feel good.”

“No,” Akaashi said, his tummy a mess of heat and hormones and all these wants he wanted fulfilled but knew he couldn’t, “it’ll be gross.”

“If I cared I wouldn’t offer.” Bokuto whispered into his skin, licking at the teeth indentions freshly pressed into the pale skin. “I know what blood tastes like. It’s not the worst thing.”

This was unreal. He was too good to him. Way too good. This was a dream. A wet dream that Akaashi was gonna wake up from, feel disgusted with but still get off to anyway. 

Maybe if they hadn’t just started dating _twenty minutes ago_ , maybe if Akaashi hadn’t just almost puked on his dick, maybe if he was a little more comfortable with this whole situation, maybe if this wasn’t such a heavy day, maybe he’d say yes. Maybe. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. _Who didn’t want a mouth sucking them off?_ Maybe if he was a little more confident in the fact that Bokuto wouldn’t leave him after that or look at him funny for getting off on this, maybe. Maybe.

Today just wasn’t that day.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna say no to everything.

“Sorry, but no.” Akaashi said with poorly-disguised longing. Bokuto’s brow furrowed, about to try to convince him that it was okay but Akaashi stopped him before he could open his mouth by grabbing at Bokuto’s dominant hand and squeezing tightly around his wrist and mumbling out, “But if you wanna touch me through my underwear… I wouldn’t stop you…”

“Over the pants action?” Bokuto grinned. “Really?”

Akaashi just flushed harder as he laughed. 

“Nice,” Bokuto lifted his head up and started to bite at his boyfriend’s ( _boyfriend’s, oh god_ ) lower lip.

Akaashi squirmed around enough to slide his shorts off, then guided Bokuto’s fingers so they were pressed into the upper area of his slit, mainly on his clit. He wondered if Bokuto could feel his pulse. “Rub it in circles. Up and down. Press gently, pinch it between with your fingers.”

Bokuto’s thumb started to do just that, pressing circles into the already swollen nub beneath the cotton of his boxers. “Sounds like you know what to do. Do you do this a lot, or something?” Bokuto teased, his voice an affectionate giggle that made Akaashi’s pulse escalate.

“You could say that.” Akaashi breathed and held on tighter. “Also, _more, please._ ”

Bokuto did more, _so much more_ , and Akaashi moaned deep in his throat and wrapped his legs around Bokuto’s waist, grinding shamelessly into the friction, “I thought we were gonna make out?”

Akaashi only waited until Bokuto’s eyes widened with mischief and fondness before he pressed his mouth to the captain’s in a kiss as sloppy as his blowjob had been.

It only took a couple of minutes for him to be rendered into a desperate mess, crying out and squeaking in an embarrassingly high octave into Bokuto’s mouth as his body throbbed with an onslaught of happy, overwhelming contractions that rendered him into a yawning, cuddling mess beneath Bokuto as he let open-mouthed kisses press all over his face and cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut in a heavy drowsiness that he was fine succumbing to for a little while.

_Yes, yes yes._

Bokuto was certainly better.

 _Everything_ was getting better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I fucking hate the chapter titles i give up_
> 
> also sorry that i'm gross
> 
> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	13. Give and Take

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that awkward moment when u need to reread ur own fic bc u haven’t updated in 4ever and u forgot what happened lol
> 
> also seriously you all are such patient, loving people. for those of you still sticking with this, you all mean so much to me. like i can’t believe people actually like this as much as they do. it blows my mind. and for those who just jumped onto this ridiculous ride, welcome aboard!! 
> 
> again, sorry about the lengthy wait. I just have been feeling kind of blocked lately, and emotionally, I admittedly haven’t been in the best state. or even a good one, in all honesty. but. i think things are looking up. and i’m hopeful. and that’s all that matters, right?
> 
> (and that holds true for akaashi and bo, too)

“Something good happened since last night.”

That’s what Kenma greeted him with when Akaashi walked up to his table in the fast-food restaurant. For once he didn’t have to work for blonde’s attention: Kenma’s eyes weren’t glued to his phone. It was almost like he had been watching the entrance door, waiting for Akaashi to waltz in.

 _That’s disconcerting_ , was Akaashi’s gut reaction, but a second later his brain reconsidered.

_Actually, that’s kinda sweet._

“What’s up?” Akaashi greeted with an amused smile as he removed his school bag from his body. He pushed the bulky thing into the far end of the booth before he puzzle-pieced himself inside to sit down. The only thing on the table was a large soft drink, the tip of the straw gnawed to bits.

“I’m right, right?” Kenma asked, cocking his head ever so slightly. This was so out-of-character for him. He was being _attentive_. Like eye contact and _everything_. But really, it was even more than that. He seemed interested, invested, eager. Well, as much as Kenma could outwardly express those things. 

Those were not the first adjectives that would come to mind to describe the quiet setter, but right now they would have explained his current disposition to a tee. There was this widened quality to his usually half-lidded, disinterested eyes, a slight tenseness to his mouth (was he smiling??) and just a different vibe emanating off his slight frame.

This after school hang-out felt like it’d be just a little different than usual.

“I mean…” Akaashi just shrugged. Damn, he was getting down to business. He hadn’t even gotten to order himself anything yet, and he already was getting drilled for details, “…yeah, I guess.”

“So you went to go see him.”

_Yeah. I did._

But he didn’t say anything immediately. He just stared at Kenma, trying to think of the right words, the perfect way to phrase just how _incredible_ last night went, but nothing too sappy or embarrassing and maybe even something a little witty…

But Kenma wasn’t having any of this and interrupted him with a monotone drawl, “You _did_.”

Akaashi shrugged, an uncomfortable smile curling his lips. “I mean, yeah.”

“And?”

Akaashi shrugged again.

The look on Kenma’s face changed, his nose scrunching as he asked just a bit exasperated, “….so did everything work out?”

This was literally an _interrogation_. Kenma was interrogating him about his _sex life_.

(And he knows I have one kind of _oh my god_.)

It was kinda strange how awkward all of this was making Akaashi feel. Yesterday he practically spilled his guts to Kenma, all the little what-ifs and fears and doubts that had almost brought him to _tears_. But now when the results were good, things worked out (and really, _really worked out_ ) why was he suddenly feeling shy?

Was it just general humiliation? Did it have to do with all the self-deprecation he put himself through about whether or not he could date Bokuto? Or was it maybe something else?

_Pity…?_

_No_ , that wasn’t a fair thought to have at all. _Stop that. That’s not okay._

Akaashi let himself smile the way he wanted to, took a steadying breath and happily exhaled, “Yeah, it did.” Kenma just nodded as Akaashi began to loosen his tie and collar of his uniform (why did it feel kinda warm in here?), “Really well.”

Kenma’s eyes didn’t betray how he took that information. He grabbed his soda and took a long drink from the deformed straw. When he was finished he set it back down with barely a sound and flicked his dark eyes back up to Akaashi’s. “How _well?_ ”

_Oh god this was an interrogation._

“What?”

“Like _physically intimate well_ or _now you two are in a relationship_ well?”

Akaashi felt his face get hot. Did those two options have to be mutually exclusive? “Uhm…”

“Both?” Kenma supplied, just the faintest look of amusement crinkling the corner of his mouth. That _jerk_

Akaashi simply shrugged. He was doing way too much of that in this conversation.

“Good, I’m happy for you two.” Kenma voice was so genuine.

“Thanks.” 

“You can get something if you want, now.”

“What?”

“Food or a drink or something. We’re at a restaurant, you know.”

Akaashi snorted. “Were you keeping me hostage until I gave you an update?”

“Definitely not.” Kenma was such a purposefully bad liar it was wonderful.

“I’ll be right back.” Akaashi squirmed out of the booth, grabbed his wallet and went towards the registers up front. Kenma just smirked and took another drink.

This was gonna be a good afternoon, Akaashi thought with a relieved smile. Well, these little after school hang outs with Kenma were always good. But today it was gonna be exceptionally, particularly good. It was always nice to just unload, to decompress with the blonde. Kuroo and Bokuto jokingly called it the Second Year Setters’ Club, especially when they were specifically instructed that neither of them were invited.

Then it was usually whining instead of joking, but that was to be expected.

The four of them typically hung out together, but sometimes just breaking away was nice. It kept them all from wanting to strangle each other (or Akaashi and Kenma wanting to strange their captains). Which was an ideal situation.

Also, Kenma was just different alone than when Kuroo was with him. 

It wasn’t that he acted differently but… it was just more _genuine Kenma_. He and the Nekoma captain had been friends for years, way too long, and Kuroo could read the blonde like the back of his hand. He elaborated on his short replies, finished his sentences, translated for Akaashi and Bokuto when all that was given was a slight sideways tilt of the setter’s head. Kenma also got lazy when Kuroo was around, because he knew he would carry the conversation for him because he was too impatient for his slower conversation-pace.

Alone, Kenma was just… _Kenma_. He couldn’t really explain it.

After Akaashi picked up and paid for his small fries and milkshake (his go to pick-me-up when he was bleeding out and a little crampy) he plopped back down into the booth. Kenma was busy on his phone, playing some sort of RPG app with the sound shut off. Akaashi let him finish the level, so in the meanwhile he busied himself with taking a handful of fries, dipping them into the vanilla shake and unceremoniously shoving them into his mouth. 

There was a reason this was his go-to treat. It was _delicious_.

After he swallowed, he asked, “How was school?”

“Fine. You?”

“Same. We had morning practice. That was good.”

“Nice,” Kenma said, still raptly attentive to his game.

“Before yesterday, things had been kind of… strained. Between me and Bokuto, obviously.”

“Mhm.”

“And the whole team could tell something was up. Two of them made a first year ask me if everything was okay. It was kinda bad. But today… I don’t know, they could all tell something changed. Or was different. There was just a -“

“Different atmosphere?”

“Yeah,” Akaashi nodded and helped himself to more of his milkshake-dunked french fries, “It was just a nice change.”

“Sounds like it.” 

Akaashi made a noise of agreement as he put more fries into his mouth. 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence Kenma set his phone down, a slightly annoyed look on his face. He couldn’t clear the level, most likely. Or possibly he just got completely bored of it. Either way, Akaashi had his full undivided attention now. Which was a good thing.

But then the blonde reached across the table to steal a fry, dip it, and then put it into his own mouth.

 _I take that back. Not a good thing at all_. 

“They’re good,” Kenma said matter-of-factly.

“I know.”

“You should’ve gotten a bigger size.”

“Why, so we could share?” Akaashi teased.

“Obviously,” Kenma said without batting an eyelash.

“You could’ve gotten your own, y’know.”

“I wouldn’t finish it. It’d be a waste.”

“Maybe…” 

“When we’re with the idiots, I’ll get my own. They’d finish them for me.”

“Because they’re lazy freeloaders?”

Kenma just smiled.

“Speaking of the idiots-“

“I didn’t tell Kuroo anything.”

Akaashi was a little taken aback. “I wasn’t gonna accuse you of doing that.”

“Just making sure you knew.”

“Alright, cool.”

There was a minute of silence that followed, less comfortable than before, then Akaashi asked, “They’re both hanging out right now, right?”

“Mhm.”

Akaashi sighed and played with the cardboard holder of his fries. “Well, he’ll probably find out soon then.”

Kenma nodded wisely. “Bo has a big mouth.”

“And Kuroo’s persistent.”

Both of them rolled their eyes.

“Also… Bokuto was just _so happy_. About… _us_.” Akaashi face felt a little warm after saying that. He hated that. _Us_. He felt like a dork, but he had no other way of phrasing it. “He could barely keep himself from blurting to everyone during warmups today that he and I were together.”

“I can imagine.”

“He kept looking over at me and smiling, making eye contact, going more out of his way to compliment me on my tosses and high-fiving me more than usual.”

Kenma gave him a look that said _what did you expect?_

“And after practice he -“ But Akaashi stopped himself mid-sentence. That was kind of alarming how easily he was getting wrapped up in this, how he was just gonna confess to private stuff like that. It was to Kenma, whom he trusted and already knew pretty much everything, but _still_ …

“After practice he?” Kenma raised a brow.

“Never mind.”

“You two were intimate?” Kenma was putting in a lot of effort not to laugh.

“No! We just kissed…” Akaashi was positive his face was betraying everything, “…for twenty minutes.”

Kenma just looked at him. “Where?”

Akaashi’s voice dropped off as he admitted, “Supply closet.”

“ _Akaashi…_ ”

“I know, _I know_. But where else could we do that?”

Kenma shrugged. “Dunno. You could’ve waited until lunch or tonight or something.”

“Um. Well…”

“You didn’t want to.”

“No.”

“…I see.”

“It’s kinda complicated…”

“Trust me, I know. You told me last night.”

Akaashi flushed harder.

“No, but really. This is great.” Maybe Akaashi would’ve taken that a bit more seriously if Kenma hadn’t said it while stealing one of his fries. “I”m glad you’re happy.”

“Me too.”

And that was true.

“So,” Kenma said after a beat, “besides me and most likely Kuroo knowing, have you told anyone else?”

“No.” Akaashi said, a little quickly, a little defensively (for some unknown reason).

“Not the team, right?” Kenma kept digging deeper.

Akaashi shook his head.

“Not even your mom?”

“No… I mean… not _yet_.”

“You’re gonna tell her, right?”

The silence following that was just downright _awkward_.

“It’s more like she’s gonna find out…” Akaashi sighed. “She can read me really well. Too well. It’s scary.”

Kenma didn’t say anything to that for a few moments. “You know… you should probably tell her at least. And the team, maybe.”

Akaashi sighed and looked down at his milkshake.

“Being so secretive about it isn’t good.” Kenma said with a hint of an edge to his voice. “Getting to where you are right now wasn’t exactly painless.”

“I know…”

“And you said it yourself that you didn’t want to be selfish.”

Akaashi bit the inside of his cheek.

“And being so secretive, almost embarrassed or ashamed is only being selfish.” Kenma took another drink of his soda, finally giving a break to Akaashi’s dwindling food supply, but not his pride. “We said it before: Bo has a big mouth. He’s emotional. He’s not good at holding stuff in. And having that restraint around you two dating is only gonna make him, and you too, very miserable.”

_Ouch._

(But it’s not like he didn’t already know all of this.)

“I-“

“I know you’re worried about him,” Kenma interrupted, “but he can handle himself.”

Akaashi cut in, “But can he?”

Kenma shrugged his shoulders. “We won’t know until you give him a chance.”

_Fuck, why was Kenma so insightful about this?_

They were both quiet for a long while, Kenma looking nonplussed at him while Akaashi staring anywhere but his friend’s face. Everything he was saying was blunt. But it also was good advice. Relationships should mutual things. And they shouldn’t be so simple… if they were, what was the point? You had to give and take in order for it to be worthwhile… And Akaashi was just _taking_ right now. Taking away the air to breathe, the freedom to move, the emotions to express. They couldn’t exist in a vacuum like this. It wasn’t natural or healthy but…

…it was hard not to want that.

Especially when he was scared. Still scared, _so scared_.

Finally gaining the courage to make eye contact, Akaashi took a steadying breath. “I will. I just… need time.”

“And you can have it.” Kenma said softly. “You just can’t have forever.”

Akaashi forced himself not to look down this time.

——

When he got home from his lecture/hang out, Akaashi practically locked himself in his bedroom, only creeping out for dinner. What Kenma had said had hit too close to home, and spending time with his parents (especially his mom) was making him feel incredibly guilty about everything.

Things had been great finally. He didn’t want to ruin the mood by making himself miserable when he didn’t have to.

Of course, his mom kept giving him this guilt-inducing look because she knew something was bothering him. But he ignored it, didn’t feed into it because he knew how easily she could win. He knew she was trying to help, and he loved her for that constant support. But right now he just needed to work things out for himself.

When she knocked on his door after dinner, he just told her he had a lot of homework to do. And did not invite her in. He knew that hurt her but… he just didn’t have the emotional strength to deal with this conversation right now.

Besides, he could handle her being mad at him for a day. It’s not like it hadn’t happened before.

His school bag, notebooks and textbooks and laptop were strewn all over his bed in a feeble attempt to motivate his sorry ass to do homework. He had a couple of essay questions for Japanese History and some problem sets to work out for tomorrow, plus he had that English reading comprehension assignment due _fuck he forgot about that_ \- it was a mess. Everything was a disaster. 

Well, not really. It could be worse.

It was just… that he was _behind_ in his schoolwork. The last time that happened he couldn’t even remember. Jeez, had it ever even happened?

One night. One night of slacking, because he couldn’t stop obsessing over a _boy_. Because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. Because his hormones were a disaster, because he was horny beyond belief and bleeding, because he couldn’t keep his composure. 

One night of weakness and the next day he was suffering (scholastically).

Akaashi rubbed at his eyes and groaned. Alright, maybe he was being a little harsh on himself. He fell behind one some work for something, _someone_ , that made him happy. That was perfectly fine.

…But it still was annoying. _Fuck._

He groaned again and reluctantly tried to scan over the paragraphs of details and dates and anecdotes that his brain just didn’t care to absorb. He read the same sentence over and over again at least six times before he almost pushed the brick of the book off his bed.

_The Meiji Restoration, by which political authority was restored from the shogunate to the imperial court, ushered in a period of far-reaching reform…”_

_I know that already._

He rubbed at the pressure points just underneath his brow bones. Why couldn’t he just focus and get this over with? 

_Because you’re thinking about him._

Yeah, _obviously_. He had gotten a boyfriend not even twenty-four hours ago…

Akaashi for once decided to give up on himself and further dig himself deeper into this hole. He picked up his phone and pressed on Bokuto’s contact to call him. Chances were he wasn’t doing anything productive either, and maybe just a quick chat would get his willpower back to its usual acceptable levels.

When the captain answered, Akaashi beat him to the greeting and said, “Hey.“

“Akaashi!” There was nothing but excitement in his voice. It made his tummy feel warm.

“Hi, Bo.”

“Didya miss me?” He teased. Akaashi could hear his forceful exhale from the other end of the line.

“Something like that.” 

“Awww,” Bokuto cooed, “Did you finish your homework already?”

Akaashi just blinked, feeling his pride sink through him and drain out of his body and onto the floor. The shame was too much, so he pushed his books and notebooks and everything away from him and responded easily, “Yeah, I did.”

“You’re so much more disciplined than me! I haven’t done anything yet!” Came the whined response, and Akaashi just did his best to ignore how much of a petty asshole he was.

“So what’re you doing?” was his attempt in changing the subject.

“Playing this game Kuroo lent me. It’s freakin’ _sick_. You get to create your own character and all you gotta do is like fight all these people and and gain territory and make your own crime empire or some shit.”

At the mention of the Nekoma captain’s name, his thoughts immediately darted to wanting to ask Bokuto about him. About what they did after school, if he told him about them. He was burning up with curiosity but also… it felt almost inappropriate to ask. Would Bokuto see that as an accusation of untrustworthiness? That couldn’t happen. Especially because things were good right now. 

So good.

But on the other hand… it was just Kuroo. Why’d it matter if one of his best friends knew? What would he do? The most he’d do was make fun of them in that usual, Kuroo loving way. But he’d support them, because there was no way that he wouldn’t. Kuroo was loyal like that.

So if he knows, _fine_ , Akaashi told himself. He didn’t call Bo to talk about this anyway.

“Sounds intense.”

“It is!” Bokuto chirped. “I’m literally about to break into this gang’s headquarters and -“

“I don’t wanna here about you shooting the place up.”

“Akaashi, no!” Bokuto almost yelled, voice hurried, “No no no you don’t understand. There’s no guns or explosives or anything. It’s literally all dumb things. I’m running in here with only a plastic slingshot and a wiffle ball bat.”

Akaashi couldn’t help but snort. “That’s… so stupid.”

“I know! But these guys don’t even know what’s gonna hit ‘em.”

“A rock.”

“Huh?”

“Like… a rock. With your slingshot…?”

“Oh… yeah, you’re right! Haha!”

Akaashi rolled his eyes but he was grinning from ear to ear. Bokuto soon after was unintelligibly screaming, probably in the middle of a raid or whatever. Akaashi stayed on, just listening, just enjoying his _boyfriend’s_ ridiculous exclamations. He teased him too, saying _calm down I bet it’s not that bad_ but then Akaashi couldn’t help but burst out into his own loud laughter when Bo screeched _THIS ASSHOLE JUST TRIPPED ME WITH A POOL NOODLE?!_

Minutes later Bokuto either failed the mission or paused the game, because he gave a definitive and not a wholly satisfied sigh. Akaashi was too nice to ask him which it was (because knowing Bokuto he probably just got his digital ass whooped by a guy with a pool noodle.)

“Sorry, I just got so into it.” The captain apologized, still sounding glum.

“It’s fine, I enjoyed it.”

A small hum came through from Bo’s end. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Thanks, but I’m not.”

“No, really! You’re so nice. Even when you’re not nice you’re still being nice!”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he snorted.

“It makes sense to me! That’s all that matters.”

“Alright.”

Bokuto made this huge dramatic noise and after a minute mumbled, less dramatically and more honestly, “I wish you were here.”

Akaashi laughed. “If I was neither of us would get any work done.”

“I wanna not get any work done with you.” 

The way he said it made Akaashi stop laughing. It was the same tone of voice he used on him last night. Akaashi curled his toes and tried to keep his pulse under control.

“Well… we can’t not get work done all the time…” Akaashi bit his lip, “No matter how much I want to.”

“I do too, though.” Bokuto countered, voice persuasive, deep, “I wanna pay you back for yesterday.”

“Eventually,” Akaashi swallowed, his voice cracking, his tummy hot, “You have to promise to do your homework first, though.”

They were both quiet for a couple of seconds (it felt like years) but then Bokuto said, suddenly, voice different, not quiet as huskier or suggestive, “I have a better idea!”

“What?”

“What if I promise to take you out on a date first?”

Akaashi eyes widened, “What?”

“A date! Akaashi I haven’t taken you out yet! We need to do this right if we’re gonna do it! I can’t half-ass this dating thing!”

“Bo, you don’t have to…”

“But I want to! I wanna be a good - no, a _fucking incredible boyfriend!_ ”

Akaashi’s face should’ve hurt with how wide he was smiling, “Okay.”

“YES! I’ll take you out for dinner and we’ll do something fun and super romantic or whatever and -“

“- and then I’ll let you pay me back for yesterday?”

“Dude, I was trying to be more _subtle_ about that, but I mean, if you insist~”

Akaashi covered his mouth as he started to giggle. “Shut up!”

“Nope. Not until you say yes.”

“It depends when it is! You still have to do your homework, y’know,” Akaashi refused to look at his books on his bed.

“Ummm….. Well, we have practice after school tomorrow. That wouldn’t be good… We’ll be tired! Uh. So. Um. How about -“

“We don’t the next day.” Akaashi supplied easily. “Practice after school, I mean.”

“Sure, then that works! Will you go out to dinner with me then, Akaashi?”

“Sure, idiot.”

Bokuto made an affronted noise and complained, “Why do I like you so much, meanie?”

“You just called me nice like a minute ago.”

“Well I was clearly wrong!”

“Don’t ruin this! I could change my answer right now. Then I’d be _super mean_.”

“Yeah, you would,” the way the captain’s words hurried together was _adorable_. As if Akaashi would even dream about changing his answer.

Akaashi just giggled. “Go do your homework.”

Bokuto whined into the phone, not sounding so terrified this time, “Fine.”

“Good, boy.”

Bokuto hummed in appreciation. “Night, Akaashi.”

“Night, Bokuto.”

There was an awkward second before either of them hung up. He could hear Bokuto breathing on the other end, wanting to say something else, and Akaashi felt like he should say something more, too, but then Bokuto mumbled out an awkward _okay night bye!_ and hung up.

Despite the awkwardness, Akaashi wanted to roll around because _he was just asked out on a date. His first date_. 

But he couldn’t roll around. Especially not on his bed, where all his neglected textbooks were glaring at him.

_Don’t be a lazy piece of garbage, c’mon now._

For some reason, it was easier to find the willpower to concentrate this time.

(Maybe it was because there was something to look forward to now).

Yeah, that was definitely it.

——

He’d never finished his homework that fast before ever in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** The textbook sentence is taken directly from [here](http://web-japan.org/museum/historyofjp/histjp.html) because I was too lazy to actually write a believably-textbook-y sentence about some random tidbit of Japanese history.
> 
> bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	14. It Could Be Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is cheesy as hell. I’m so sorry. And y’all waited 75 years for it, too...
> 
> ALSO A HUGE SHOUTOUT TO [BEJOLY](http://bejoly.tumblr.com) FOR BLOWING MY MIND WITH HER FANTASTIC BETA SKILLS? If this chapter seems a lot more polished and actually decent, because it really is, please thank her. She’s amazing and gives incredibly poignant feedback and I can’t say thank you enough because woah, she really knows her stuff.

Akaashi wasn’t able to pay attention at volleyball practice the next day. The times he’d almost got a volleyball to the face were too humiliating to count. 

He couldn’t pay attention that night either because he was going on a date tomorrow. His first date. With Bokuto. Bokuto and him were going on a date.

He was getting taken out to dinner.

He couldn’t even do his homework. Well, _fuck_. This was gonna be downright disastrous for his grades. He was already falling behind. Today he had to scribble the bare minimum answers to his English homework down right before class started. That _never_ happened. And it did because he was too busy daydreaming about the _date_ , about Bokuto kissing him. A _daydream_. Not even actually making out with him - just _thinking_ about it. Alright, in all honesty kissing Bokuto may be worth a B on an assignment. But… just wasting time being giddy and ridiculous and sappy and gross?

Nope.

…Still, though. Bokuto wasn’t a bad kisser, by any means. 

Every time, Akaashi had really enjoyed it. The way they had kissed. The way that they just touched each other in general. How _good_ Bo’s fingers were.

Just how much they _liked_ each other. How much he liked _him_.

Akaashi smacked his forehead with his calculus textbook. No, _concentrate_.

After the blunt impact hit, the horrifying realization immediately hit him ever harder that he was acting like that idiot. The same way Bokuto reacted to fucking up a calculus problem, when he messed up simple arithmetic, when he just was trying to stay awake. If Akaashi was less stressed at this point, maybe he would’ve taken more time to really evaluate himself.

But that wasn’t the issue at hand right now. The date was. His first _date_.

But… how would the date go? Where would they go? Dinner? Just hang out? Would they do anything after? Would they come back to one of their houses? Would they kiss… Would they….?

Akaashi hit himself with his textbook again. _No no no no_.

_Daydreams are not worth a B._

But he _wanted_ to daydream about it. Scratch that, he actually wanted it to _happen_. He wanted to get _fucked_. He wanted to get fucked by Bokuto _so bad_. Have him grab his hips and _squeeze_ and move him the way he had the other night. Kiss his neck, down his side, down _there_ …

He wasn’t going to be bleeding tomorrow. That was for sure. Bye, period.

Akaashi smacked himself in the forehead with his textbook again, for good measure.

_Focus._

——

Focusing in class was even harder the next day.

The amount of times Akaashi had to pinch himself to keep himself attentive was embarrassing. He really was embarrassing himself a lot, lately.

The worst part though, by far, was during his history class when the teacher called on him to read. In that particularly horrific moment he had been zoned out, eyes trained on the chalkboard, fantasizing about a particular loud-mouthed idiot using that loud mouth to suck on his clit. Too wrapped up in himself, the teacher repeated himself with an Akaashi, the next section, please and he still had missed it. He hadn’t heard him ask. Only when the girl in front of him turned around and whispered, are you okay? Sensei’s talking to you… did Akaashi snap out of his train of thought and blossomed a terrified rose color up to his ears.

He had cleared his throat, shamefully asked which section they were on, and with an apology recited the written words with a more wobbly voice than usual.

It had been even worse because after class, his teacher had asked him if he was feeling alright.

“You’re usually one of the good ones,” his teacher chuckled, “it was surprising to have you unfocused like that.”

“It won’t happen again, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, just don’t make it a habit.”

That really had been the last straw. Akaashi had gone to the bathroom between class breaks, locked himself in the stall and just sighed. He needed space to breathe and collect himself, where people weren’t staring at him, where it was quiet. 

His teacher had been right: this couldn’t become a habit. Something like starting a relationship shouldn’t affect him this much. If having a boyfriend was going to turn him into an inattentive delinquent then maybe…

Akaashi sighed again and rubbed at the back of his neck in an attempt to keep himself grounded. _Stop being so dramatic. You’re turning into Bokuto._

Maybe actually talking to the source of all this distraction would be helpful. Whipping out his phone he shot the captain a quick text.

>>i’m really excited for tonight

He knew he’d get an answer soon enough- Bokuto wasn’t in class just yet, either. And right on cue, he received a response lightning-quick. Akaashi smiled at the capslocked mess and for some reason, he found it incredibly endearing.

>> _ME TOO I CNA’T WAIT!!!!!1!!!!! :)_

>> _i can’t pay attention in class._

>> _what??????????????? that’s a first. ur a star student_

>> _my teacher talked to me afterwards about it_

>> _shit!!!! i better make this date THE BEST if it got u in trouble!!_

A small laugh left the setter as he typed back. Even through text, Bokuto’s enthusiasm was infectious.

>> _now i’m even more excited_

>> _/kissy face emoji/_

Yeah. Akaashi shoved his phone back into his bag and headed back to class. He definitely felt better. He could survive the rest of this day, no problem.

——

The last class of the day had Akaashi freaking out. 

Why?

Not because this antiderivative graphing assignment for calculus would take a solid two hours, minimum. Two hours which Akaashi didn't have any time to spare in the first place, much less in addition to the laundry list of paper outlines and chapter readings, because, oh right, he was going on his fucking first date.

No, not that. None of those were justifiable reasons.

It was because he realized he didn’t have any condoms.

_Shit shit shit. Where am I gonna get those?_

Because, in reality, Bokuto probably didn’t have any either. Why would he? Or did he? What if he did? What if he had a box already just in case? What if he specifically went out and bought a box because, realistically, they’d need them eventually?

Akaashi was too distressed to be mad at himself.

But he couldn’t just ask him. _Hey. Do you have a condom? I was hoping you’d take me home with you after our date and fuck my brains out. So… yeah? You have any?_

_Fucking god_ , Akaashi was having trouble focusing again.

But thank whomever was up there taking pity on his sorry ass, he wasn’t called on at any point during the remainder of class. As he was packing up his things and getting ready to rush to the third years’ hallway to Bokuto’s homeroom, he felt his phone vibrate in his bag. A text? He unlocked his phone more frantically than usual and, of course, saw that it was from Bokuto.

>> _go home and get changed! i’m picking you up in an hour and a half! get pUMPeD!!!!_

Akaashi had mixed feelings about this development. First of all, that was amazing. He was getting picked up for his date. He had a chance to get out of his uniform and shower and just be comfortable for tonight. Second of all, he couldn’t ask Bo about the condoms now. Over text. Imagine: after getting such a sweet message from the captain, he replies with a _haha nice ok but do u have a rubber????????_

Fuck.

But it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. It really didn’t matter anyway… if Bokuto had a condom, fine. If he didn’t, then they’d have to postpone it. Fine. Not everything revolved around sex. This was a date. This was about their relationship. About their emotional connection and figuring things out and being happy.

Sex wasn’t going to make or break this.

(Even if he knew both of them wanted each other that way. Bad.)

It was gonna be fine. It was gonna be more than fine.

It was gonna be _perfect_.

But before that he needed to get his ass home so he could hype himself up for it.

——

When his phone rang almost two hours later, Akaashi was splayed out on his back on his bed staring up at his white-washed ceiling, more stiffly than anyone chilling in their bedroom should. 

His pulse started to thud a little harder. Getting ready had been a rather painless affair - he showered, put on new clothes that weren’t his school uniform, ran his fingers through his hair until it air-dried the way it usually did, tried not to look tired - the usual. Those parts had been easy. The remainder of the time had been spent inside his brain, contemplating how the night was gonna go, playing scenarios through his head which were progressively getting more and more ridiculous.

He’d never been this nervously ecstatic in his life.

So, when his phone went off, he snatched it too quickly. With his voice cracking, he answered, “Hey.”

“I’m outside your house.”

“Okay. See you in a sec.”

“Cool!”

After hanging up, the setter gave himself a moment to breathe before he hauled his apprehensive self downstairs.

Upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, he found out that Bokuto was a lying piece of garbage. He was seated in his living room, chatting casually with his mom, all dressed up in his Sunday best. Akaashi paled and immediately wanted to turn around and run back up to his bedroom. His pulse was through the roof at this point. There was no way in hell this was healthy.

“Hey!” Bo beamed, his grin like sunshine.

Akaashi nodded weakly and shrugged because his vocal chords weren’t working at the moment.

“You didn’t tell me Bokuto was coming over tonight,” his mom inquired with her brows raised, that _look_ on her face. That look full of knowingness, a bit smug, a whole lot searching for an apology from him. Akaashi swallowed and stared at both of them, not sure what to say or think except that he felt dually betrayed by both of them.

“…he wasn’t supposed to,” was all he could manage to say when it became obvious both pairs of eyes wouldn’t be letting him off so easy.

“What he means is,” Bokuto did his best to ameliorate the situation with a bright smile (and a noticeably off-kilter tone of voice), “that we were going to go out tonight. And the reason I look all nice is because he didn’t believe me that I owned nice clothes.” And Bo was selling it, donning a conspiring glint in his eye that he directly solely at his mother, “I showed him, right?!”

Akaashi was sure he’d never get used to Bokuto’s special brand of genius.

His mom, thankfully, laughed and took the captain’s bait. “Yes you did.”

Bokuto’s face illuminated further, and if Akaashi wasn’t so taken off guard right now (and considerably angry), he definitely would have (inwardly) swooned.

“Alright,” his mom said. Then her gaze was directed at her son again, and Akaashi’s stomach dropped to the floor because he realized he wasn’t off the hook quite yet, “before you two head out can I talk to Keiji for a minute?”

“Sure! I’ll wait outside!” Bo smartly took his exit as Akaashi’s nerves sparked with renewed apprehension.

As soon as the door clicked behind them, all traces of kindness vanished and her face took on a reprimanding look. “With the way you’ve been acting for the past few days, you think you can just do whatever you want?”

Akaashi didn’t have anything to say to that because it was completely true.

“It wasn’t fair to make me feel like the bad guy, like I did something wrong, when clearly something else was the issue.” She exhaled her frustration from her body like a gust of wind, shoulders deflating as she shifted her weight into her right hip. “And it’s _this_ , isn’t it?”

She didn’t have to look to where Bokuto had exited for him to know that he was the _this_ she was talking about.

It was too much to meet her gaze. Instead he shifted his attention downwards to her waist, and simply shrugged. His non-answer was enough for her.

“I’m not going to forbid you from going. But you’re not going anywhere all weekend, is that clear?”

With a moment’s hesitation, he finally re-met her severe expression. “I’m really, really sorry,” and he hoped that she could understand how truly he meant that. Even if he was having trouble maintaining eye contact with her.

As expected though, she wasn’t even remotely fazed. “You’re allowed to keep secrets. I don’t need to know everything. You just can’t treat me like that and expect me to not do anything about it.”

She had a point. Of course she did. It wasn’t not her fault, remotely her fault, that all these doubts about this relationship had been (and still to some degree were) bothering him. Fuck, he hadn’t even told her outright that he had a boyfriend. When had he become such a terrible son?

“Mom, I wanted-“

“We’ll talk later. Don’t keep him waiting.” She said definitively, but there was less sharpness in her countenance now. “And you’re home by ten tonight.”

Akaashi sucked on the inside of his cheek. Trying to compromise at this point was futile. “Okay.”

“Good. Have fun.” And then she waved him off, and before Akaashi left, he kissed her cheek in a last ditch effort to be conciliating and awkwardly went to go join Bokuto outside.

Outside, the captain was sitting on his front steps, playing around on his phone. When he heard the front door open, he craned his neck back around and greeted Akaashi with a concerned expression. “Did you just get yelled at?”

“Sort of.” Akaashi mumbled, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. “But it’s something I did, not you. Except, kind of. Because why were you in my house?”

Bokuto blanched and swiveled his whole body back to face the setter. “I didn’t mean to! Your mom saw me waiting at the gate right after I hung up and she opened the door and made me come inside.”

Akaashi shrunk, feeling a little guilty for being so outrightly snippy. “I figured. She does that.”

Bo nodded. He stood up then, shoving his phone into his back pocket as he switched all of his attention to Akaashi with a reassuring grin. 

That was the moment when Akaashi actually noticed how nice Bokuto looked, how handsome he was. A flattering light blue button-down was done up just to the base of his throat, sleeves rolled up just a bit. Black pants were cinched at the waist with a belt, and on his feet were a pair of short lace-up suede boots that looked barely worn. The fact that Bokuto even owned any of these things was unbelievable, and seeing him in it all, instead of his usually-wrinkled uniform or his volleyball clothes, was making Akaashi’s throat go dry.

Bo cleaned up real nice.

“I wanted to get you flowers.” Bokuto said awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his own neck. “Good thing I didn’t!”

“Yeah.” Akaashi smiled, still having trouble not staring at the outfit, that nicely put-together outfit. Shit. The outfit that was making him want things, things he couldn’t have because Bokuto probably didn’t have any protection and that didn’t even matter anymore because he had to be back home by _fucking ten_ now-

“I guess it’s good I’m broke.” Bokuto interrupted his train of thought with a relieved chuckle and cocked his head towards the road. He was making the first move, inviting him to head out of his front yard. Finally. He wanted to get the hell out of his neighborhood and forget the last ten minutes as soon as possible. 

Akaashi started to follow, walking side by side with the slightly taller boy. Out of nowhere the captain hooked his arm around Akaashi’s waist and pulled him close, and Akaashi released a surprised, but definitely not protesting, noise. “But, I’m not broke enough to not properly take you out on a kick ass date. I have money for that. Don’t worry.”

A warm flush started to color in his cheeks and all Akaashi could say to that was, “You look really nice, by the way.”

Bokuto gasped. “ _Thank you!_ ”

Akaashi’s mouth twitched as he attempted to suppress a giggle, and he leaned closer into Bo as they continued walking down the street towards the less suburban part of the neighborhood.

“Okay, no seriously. I FaceTime’d my cousin so she could help me pick out clothes. I told her I had a date and she flipped the hell out and told me what to wear.” He gushed proudly, “Oh my god, I’m so _happy_.”

“You should be. I feel very, very underdressed next to you.”

“No you’re not! You always look really good, everyday you look good. You look _perfect_!”

How easy it was for Bo to make his pulse accelerate this quickly should’ve been worrying. But it wasn’t. Akaashi, with a bout of giddiness, leaned up and kissed his babbling boyfriend’s jaw. Tonight was gonna be a good night. Why the hell had he been so stressed about this in the first place? Bokuto was gonna take good care of him. He always did.

——

“I’m sorry if you expected fancier,” Bokuto shoved his hands into his pockets. They were standing in front of bustling noodle bar which was just a ten minute’s walk from Akaashi’s house. They’d been here before together with the rest of the team after matches - after all it was cheap, with huge portions and a kind older couple running the place. It had a homey atmosphere, and for a first date, it honestly was perfect. “I did tell you I was broke, though. Haha.”

Akaashi delivered a well-aimed punch to the taller boy’s arm and rolled his eyes. It was so sweet how much responsibility the other was taking on for the date. As annoying as it was to some degree, it also was kind of touching as well. “You don’t have to pay for me. I have money.”

“From who?” Bo teased as he opened the door for Akaashi, following him through the threshold into the orangey, fluorescent lighting and the din of spirited chatter. “Your mom?”

“Of course. Like I have time for a job, _please_.”

They settled at one of the two of the empty tables for two flanking the wall, laughing together. A little tea candle was the only decoration and a list of drink specials that neither of them could order from anyway. Bokuto still picked up the plastic covered sheet and glanced at it longingly and let out a defeated sigh. Akaashi just snorted. Bokuto pouted.

Their waiter approached them soon with their menus and took their drink orders. When he left and wandered back towards the kitchen, Akaashi rested his cheek in his hand and attempted to strike up a conversation. “So. Yakisoba?”

“You better believe it.” Bokuto wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m starving. I didn’t really eat all that much today.”

“Nervous for the date?” Akaashi teased, sinking into his elbow more as Bokuto flushed.

“I mean, kinda… I still am a bit, if we’re being honest here.”

This was one of the reasons why he was already so whipped. Bokuto was just…. he was just so easy to like, so easy to sympathize with. Not always the easiest to empathize with, but that didn’t matter. He was just so candid and sweet. And Akaashi was whipped. Really whipped. Real bad. And they were only having their first date and maybe they only had been fooling around so far but… Well, he was _whipped._ And he didn’t regret starting this relationship. 

Not at all.

It was always good to reaffirm that. Especially when he was starting to question things lately because of his grades. Not that grades were a legitimate reason to reevaluate a relationship but the fact that he was was actually a little scary.

But this was okay. He liked Bo. Bo liked him. He took him out for _noodles_.

Akaashi flushed. In a moment of sappiness, he reached over the distance of the small table and traced his fingers over the bones of the captain’s right hand. Caught off-guard, the other flinched, but he got used to it quickly and just watched him caress his skin, softly, intimately. Akaashi was feeling a little feverish, and it wasn’t because the restaurant was a little hot inside. 

“Don’t be nervous,” was all the setter could manage. There were so many ways he could’ve finished it off. _Because I am too. Because I really like you. Because I wanna give you every part of me regardless if you can make small talk at dinner or not._

Something shifted in Bokuto’s face. Maybe his muscles relaxed or his eyes were brighter or he had a ghost of a smile on his lips now, instead of the stressed taut line from before. He turned his hand over, palm up. Akaashi licked his bottom lip, asking for permission for something he was already given, but Bo still smiled wider anyway and nodded slightly because he was good like that. With permission granted, his fingers ran over Bo’s hand, across his palm lines and the fleshy heel and callouses on his fingers. All warm, so warm, and Akaashi’s cool fingertips just kept tracing, touching. It must have tickled because every so often Bo’s fingers would twitch and his shoulders looked a little tense but he didn’t pull away. Akaashi didn’t want him to.

The captain cleared his throat after a while, and he said innocently enough, “I’ll try not to be.”

Akaashi used more of his nails next time when he dragged down the length of his fingers and when Bo actually shivered, Akaashi turned bright red. He snatched his fingers away like he had been shocked, folded both of his hands in his lap, and stared down at the table surface. 

They were in public. They were at a restaurant, a busy restaurant with people around, and they were touching each other just so… so intimately. Where people could see. Sure, no one they knew was in here, but _still_.

Hurt flashed across Bokuto’s face. Thankfully, the waiter paid a visit to their table in that moment and dropped off both green teas, promising that their food wouldn’t take much longer to come out. Akaashi couldn’t even remember what he ordered. 

But he _did_ remember about the whole condom fiasco (the internal one he was having all day). Then he remembered that they couldn’t because his mom was mad at him. Then he was reminded that he just fucked up and hurt Bokuto’s feelings. And then he felt like curling up into a ball and screaming.

How this date regressed from super affectionate to both of them having internal crises was beyond him.

The sound of Bokuto picking up his ceramic cup and bringing it to his mouth to sip loudly at his scalding tea brought the setter back to earth, just a bit. Akaashi followed suit, and he almost cursed when he burned his tongue. Akaashi set it back down on the table in slight annoyance, and finally, looked up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.

Which was still hard to do, by the way.

And he wanted to get laid after this? When they couldn’t even survive a little PDA? Or even a stupid dinner conversation? Akaashi wasn’t used to how much he was questioning himself lately. Were relationships supposed to do this to a person? God, he hoped not. He didn’t know how much more of that he could take.

This definitely wasn’t supposed to be as stressful as it was. They needed to find a balance (or at least, _he_ needed to find a balance). They’d talk about boundaries later. Right now they should be getting closer, not embarrassing each other and barely talking.

_Don’t ruin something nice just because you’re scared._

“I like you,” Akaashi blurted, a little forcefully for what the content of his words were, but so be it, “and I want us to have a nice date and I’m sorry I made it weird. Can we start over?”

Bokuto, who had been mid-taking another drink out of lack of anything else to do abruptly and got a little bug-eyed. “Um.”

“Please?” Akaashi asked quietly, begging internally for Bokuto to go along with this.

After a second, Bo - who apparently found the situation cute - burst out into boisterously-warmhearted laughter that had the tables near them whipping around to stare. Akaashi flushed hotter, but kept himself strong. It was then Bokuto dropped a bomb. “I’m glad we’re dating.”

Against his will, Akaashi shrunk further into his seat.

“No, really! I think we’re a good match!” Bo was fiddling with his cup as he spoke, but it seemed to be less of a nervous tick and more out of excitement, “You’re honest and you try really hard and you’re not a mess like I am. I like it.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Akaashi mumbled, a smile starting to stretch his mouth.

“I’m not trying to get anywhere! I just wanted to let you know!” 

“You sure?” Akaashi challenged, because he felt like causing problems, because he always felt like causing problems for the captain. “You’re not trying to get anywhere with me?”

“Not at the moment…” Bokuto puffed out his cheeks. “We’re at dinner.”

Akaashi suddenly wanted to make a lot of jokes about that _dinner_ comment and he had no idea where that urge was coming from. Immediately he was duly horrified and tried not to betray his inner self-deprecating thoughts. “I know…”

Bokuto just snickered at his most-likely crestfallen expression. “Ooh, someone’s embarrassed.”

“Get outta here.”

“Hey! I was gonna say how I was thinking about that kinda stuff, too, but now,” Bo stuck out his tongue and grabbed at his green tea haughtily, “I won’t say a word.”

“What a pity,” Akaashi teased.

“You’re really missing out.” Bo took a sip, barely stopping himself from laughing and choking on his drink. 

Their waiter returned with their food not soon after. That’s one of the reasons why they came here with the team - service was pretty quick. Also the food was pretty delicious, too. Bokuto lit up when his mound of yakisoba was deposited in front of him, and Akaashi felt his stomach growl in wait at the prospect of being filled up with the steaming bowl of pork udon placed before him. Akaashi grabbed his chopsticks, broke them, and looked over at Bokuto, who was already scooping up some noodles and was bringing them up to his mouth.

“Oh, sorry,” Bo snapped his mouth shut and Akaashi giggled then, picking up his spoon to stir some heat out of his meal. 

“No, go right ahead. I don’t care.”

“No, but, we’re on a date! I have to act better!”

“Why? I already know you’re hopeless.” Akaashi cocked his head a little, spooning some of the broth into his mouth.

“Hey you’re not supposed to say that!”

Akaashi drank some more broth with a coy shrug. Bo just pouted, and picked self-pitying at his napkin as he grumbled childishly,“Besides, that’s how dates are supposed to go.”

Amusement crinkled in the corners of his eyes. “It’s not like we’ve been dating by the book, y’know.”

“That’s true...”

“So, why start now?” Akaashi grinned. “I like you already, even if you have bad manners.”

“You’re so mean!”

Akaashi shrugged and slurped some noodles. He couldn’t deny that.

“But,” Bo sighed faux-defeatedly, “it’s not like I’m into that or anything.”

Akaashi choked on his udon. 

Bokuto was cackling. Actually cackling.

“And you think _I’m_ mean?”

“I mean, it’s true.” Bo shrugged, chuckling as he played with his food, “I like it when you push back. Challenge me. It’s kinda a turn on.”

Heat was creeping up his face again. Akaashi started to eat more so he could make an excuse for his sudden silence. Bo just winked at him, and Akaashi hated how his stomach lurched forward at that, how his insides collectively pulsed. He felt warm. It wasn’t from his dinner.

The rest of dinner went pretty well. It was quiet, not only because they were eating, but because of the comfortable silence that settled between them, a nice equilibrium after the rocky start. Even though the restaurant was constantly buzzing with life, they were reserved, tacitly communicating as they made it through their meals. 

By the time there was nothing but broth left in his bowl, Akaashi felt warm, full and content. Sleepy, even. He liked this kind of full feeling - it was the kind that made him want to cuddle. He got this from his mom, the post-meal cuddle urge, and when he was younger both of them would climb into her bed and nap together. Her kissing his head, rubbing his back as he just turned off like a light and slept soundly against her. 

He was feeling that same desire now. If they just went home, got into bed and napped, Akaashi would’ve considered it to be a successful first date.

Bo shifted in his seat, reached for his napkin discarded towards the middle of the table, and Akaashi’s focus locked on how the fabric of his shirt shifted over his muscles, how his arms flexed and the shirt crinkled. Akaashi suddenly wanted to touch his arms.

“Akaashi? You okay?”

Fuck, tonight seemed to be a series of self-embarrassing moments. “Yeah.”

“You zoned out. Are you tired? We can be done after this if you want…”

Akaashi shook his head a little too aggressively. “No, I’m sleepy, yeah, but it’s just because my stomach’s full. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Mm.” And then the urge to be candid struck him and he admitted helplessly, “I also really want to touch you.”

Bo looked like he was just slapped across the face. All Akaashi could do was bite his lip. Shit, no. Wait that didn’t come out right. Well, actually, fuck, it did, that’s totally what he wanted, but he didn’t want to be _that_ candid, “Your arms, I mean.”

That didn’t seem to ameliorate the blush on the older boy’s face. 

“…I’m sorry,” he quibbled pathetically.

Bo, when he seemed to recover, just chuckled down at the tabletop, “We really can’t function on a date.”

That stung. “…I’m really sorry.”

“No! It’s,” Bo ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, “I’m thinking about it, too. I want you - I want you really fucking bad. I think we’re just extra horny teenagers or something. I dunno. But it’s… it’s both of us.”

Akaashi exhaled and twisted his fingers together in his lap. “My mom grounded me and I have to be home by ten.”

Confusion worked its way into the captain’s face as his mouth hung open. Then it dawned on him. “Oh.”

“I wanted to… _y’know_.” Akaashi shrugged, “But I don’t think we can.”

There was something unreadable on Bokuto’s face. And then, quietly, he mumbled, “I guess I didn’t need to go buy condoms today, then.”

Akaashi wanted to smash his face on the table. He definitely felt awake _now_. 

“Hey,” alarm clipped the captain’s words, “are you okay?!”

“No, I’m just an idiot.”

“Akaashi?! Seriously?!” 

When their waiter walked into the drama unfolding at their table, he barely could mask the displeasure on his face. He asked in a neutral, practice voice if he could clear their table, and both boys made an affirmative noise and immediately returned to their awkwardly strained and dramatic interaction. Embarrassment loomed In the back of their minds, but at the moment neither of them really cared.

When the waiter left, Bo fretted, hunched forward and voice raspy and nervous. “I’m sorry if that was a little too forward. And it’s the first date, and everything…”

The setter’s jaw tightened. “No, no. I’ve been thinking about that all day, too…”

“…You were thinking about me buying condoms?”

“…Sort of. Not really. It’s complicated and stupid.”

Bokuto looked so lost and Akaashi didn’t even bother trying to clarify. 

In an act of _please pay and leave so I don’t have to witness whatever the hell is going on between you two kids_ , a deus ex machina that the two boys desperately needed, the waiter returned with the receipt and planted it face down in the middle of the table with two wrapped hard candies. “Thank you! We hope to see you again soon.” With a complete lack of sincerity, the waiter left them alone for good. He definitely had better things to do than get in the middle of what definitely was an incredibly melodramatic teenage love affair.

Clearing his throat, Bokuto reached for the receipt only to find Akaashi reaching for it as well, and Bokuto made this whining noise when he argued, “I said I’m paying for it…”

“Why?”

“Because I want to be a good boyfriend!”

Akaashi shrunk down and, not for the first time tonight, resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. “A good relationship needs to be equal.”

“Well, yeah, but I still want to buy you dinner. Can you just let me? Please?”

Akaashi was too emotionally overwhelmed to continue this argument. Right now it was so much easier to give up. “Fine, I’ll pay next time.”

That cracked a smile from the captain. “Thank you.’

“Mhm.”

Bokuto stood up and grabbed the bill and his candy. “Wanna go?”

“Where?”

That made him freeze. “Um… I had a plan. But.”

“But what?”

Bokuto chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t think you want to do what I had in mind anymore.”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes as he unwrapped his candy and popped it into his mouth. That was mildly insulting. “What did you have in mind?”

“Um… well I was gonna take you to get ice cream or something and then see a movie? Because that’s a proper date, right? And I also really wanted to see that new movie with the dragons… But um.”

Akaashi waited for Bokuto to continue, because he was a jerk like that. “Um, _what_?”

Bokuto looked very, very uncomfortable. “We still have a few hours before you have to be home.”

Oh. Shit. Now he got it. 

Akaashi fought the urge to look down and away from the other’s gaze.

“If you really wanted to, well… My parents are at an event for my dad’s job. They won’t be home until later. And well, uh, we could -“

“Could… y’know?” Akaashi’s stomach was flip-flopping inside.

“Yeah.” Bo was the only one standing, awkwardly at that, so he decided to sit back down and fiddle nervously with his shirt-sleeves.

Another silence permeated their little bubble. That had been happening far too much tonight. Akaashi allowed himself to lean forward and rest his chin on the table. He was so annoyed with himself. Why the hell was he having second thoughts about this now? Yes, he wanted to sit on Bokuto’s lap but he also wanted it to be _special_. 

The funny thing was, everything else they had done really hadn’t been special. But that had been before they were dating, so… Why was he waffling like this? And now, of all times, when literally he was being given everything he had been pining for for days?

He wanted to get it over with. But he also didn’t want to have this mindset. Deep down, he knew a ‘let's get this over with’ mentality shouldn't be the way he should be viewing sex. Sex with _Bokuto_ , at that. No, that wasn’t good. And yet, he _was_. 

For some dumb reason, he was scared. Bokuto was looking freaked out, too, and that was only slightly relieving at the current moment.

After a while, Akaashi tried to make sense of his swirling thoughts aloud. “I want to. But, at the same time - I feel like it shouldn’t happen like this. It needs to be more… more…?”

“Spontaneous?” Bokuto supplied.

“Yeah, sort of? Organic, maybe?” Akaashi felt so humiliated. “I feel like if we just go back to your place to just do it it’d feel like -“

“-like we’re just trying to get it over with?”

“Yes!” Akaashi said with too much gusto, and he could tell by how the captain’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to get it over with. I want it to be… well, special.”

“Shit…that’s really sweet.”

Akaashi’s stomach was flip-flopping again. “Shut up.”

“That’s totally something sappy I would say.”

Akaashi glared at him. “Don’t.”

“So,” Bo dutifully tried to stop himself from giggling in the setter’s face, “do you wanna go get dessert or something?”

Akaashi just sighed. “I was grounded.”

“I know? And we have a lot of time before you have to get home?”

“I know that. It’s also… it was for the rest of the week. Including the weekend.”

Bo went pale. “That _sucks_.”

“I _know_.”

“That means… we’d have to wait - fuck, awhile…”

“I know.”

“I… _oh shit_.”

Akaashi was almost thankful that they were both being destroyed by this.

“I mean,” Bo offered, trying his hardest to fix things (which was really, really cute), “I could come over this weekend to do homework and -“

“Like my mom’s gonna let us hang out alone in my room with the door closed.” Akaashi grumbled. “And I’m pretty sure she knows we’re in a relationship now, so she’ll probably want to talk about it or something.”

Bo paused. “I know you didn’t tell her yet but-”

Akaashi wanted to die. “I really don’t want to have that conversation with her. I’m not ready.”

“Why? Aren’t you super close with her?”

“Yeah but… we never really talked about relationship stuff. Or sex or any of that. And I just really don’t want to have to talk about any of that with her.”

Bo blanched. “Would she? Try to talk about that?”

“I don’t know… I just don’t want to find out.”

Akaashi wished this date didn’t have to be so tense. In all honesty, it really was all his fault. If he had been nice to his mom like a decent son, if he wasn’t so awkward about having, much less speaking about sex with Bokuto, if he wasn’t so moody, then maybe their first date wouldn’t suck so bad.

“Shit.” Was all Bokuto said.

Akaashi just nodded.

“I still don’t want to just get it over with.” Bo whined, torn. “But I also _really_ want to have sex with you.”

Akaashi flushed at his candidness. “I’m sorry all I ever do is cockblock you.”

Bo’s face fell. “No, no! That’s not what I meant! And it’s not your fault. Maybe just the universe doesn’t want us to bang.”

“Probably.” Akaashi smiled. “The universe isn’t nice.”

“Nope, not at all.”

“So… ice cream then? And a movie?”

Akaashi grinned, glad for the subject change, for the solution. “The dragon one, right?”

Bo leaned forward with a happy noise and kissed Akaashi right on the mouth. His lips lingered far longer than they should’ve - they were in public for godsake - but it was so hard to really care about that now. Especially when Akaashi was melting into his chair. Bo’s lips were soft, so warmly soft, from the yakisoba and eaten-away chapstick from before dinner. A contented sound bubbled halfway down his throat, but Akaashi kept it down: he just focused on moving his lips. He felt Bo smile against him, and it was so sappy and infectious that Akaashi found himself smiling into the kiss, too.

It was over far too fast. Bokuto broke away and then, with a spring in his step, went right over to pay at the front, leaving the setter alone at the table feeling positively blithe. 

Okay, so maybe this date wasn’t a complete wreck after all.

———

No, it definitely wasn’t a wreck. Because if this date was a wreck then they both wouldn’t be sitting in the very back row, in the corner of the practically empty, pitch-black theater with their tongues down each other’s throats.

Bo had wanted to see the dragon movie, but to his sadness and quickly realized boredom, it wasn’t as interesting as the commercials made it look. On the other hand, you know what _was_ interesting? The fact that Akaashi’s sweater had a lowish neckline and he could hear Akaashi’s quiet breath next to him because he was so close. All it took was a couple of soft neck kisses, some fingers in the setter’s hair, and not even fifteen minutes in everything just kind of spiraled out of control.

Akaashi was struggling to stay quiet as Bo took his tongue between his lips and sucked, but _goddammit_ it was hard, because that was one of the most wonderful physical sensations he ever experienced and Bokuto seemed determined to reduce him into a helpless, quivering mess. Besides, the last thing he wanted were the randos several rows down looking up at them. This wasn’t exactly the right movie to be hooking up during, but who the fuck cared? Akaashi didn’t care about anything anymore.

So that’s why he squeezed Bokuto through his nice pants, his well-fitted pants, and a desperate moan ripped out of his throat as he pulled away from the kiss with blown pupils that Akaashi could see even in the dark.

“Shhh,” was all Akaashi said, his hand still cupping him.

“You try to _shhhh_ when there’s a really cute person touching you through your pants.” Bo hissed, giving him a faux glare as he raised his hips to earn a little more friction. 

“Well, the thing is, I don’t have to. So I can’t empathize.” Akaashi whispered into his ear, and dotted a few kisses down his neck, inhaling the sharpness of cologne.

“You’re so mean.”

Akaashi peered up at him. “Would you still call me mean if I was about to offer you head?”

An incredibly audible gasp tore out of the older boy’s throat, and Akaashi pulled both of them down to hide from the people most likely looking up at them, now.

Bo wasn’t even phased though. He had a enraptured look on his face. “You wanna blow me? _Here_?”

“Yeah.” Akaashi grinned, giddiness shooting through his core. “Only if you can keep quiet.”

Bokuto looked pathetic. “I don’t think I can… Akaashi, _fuck_.”

Childishly he pouted out his cheeks and gave a nice squeezed to the more defined bulge in the captain’s pants. Bo brought him into a kiss, more out of necessity than desire so he could gasp into his mouth.

When they pulled apart, both of them were just a little more breathless. Akaashi licked his lips, loving how they were becoming a little swollen from all the biting and kiss bruises. Well, dammit. He was definitely regretting not going home with Bokuto earlier. Right now, he just wanted to be pushed down onto the bed and taken in every sense of the word. He was a turned on mess, and so was Bokuto, who was far more flushed and helplessly aroused than he was at the moment.

But then Bokuto surprised him by standing up and pulling Akaashi up with him.

“What’re you doing?” Akaashi whisper yelled, because he frankly had no idea what was happening.

“We almost have two hours until ten.” Was all Bo said before he dragged him through the empty row and towards the theater exit. “We don’t have to have sex, but we can definitely have more fun if we’re alone somewhere.”

Akaashi’s pulse hammered in his ears and his body felt a little shaky, but it wasn’t from fear. It was excitement. 

As they walked into the lit main area of the theater, Akaashi stopped Bokuto in his tracks and got on his tiptoes to mouth against his ear from behind. “Or we can have sex.”

Yeah, fuck everything.

Bo whipped around and he was giving Akaashi a reverent look, a mind-blown look, the same look he had when a play they ran ended up successful, when his spike smashed through a wall of blockers, when Akaashi told him that he liked him. “We’re not gonna be virgins anymore.”

Akaashi just rolled his eyes. “Like we’re both still virgins, anyway. We’ve done pretty much everything else.”

A laugh bubbled out of Bokuto, and he looked so handsome. He didn’t even care that he was half hard, that they were leaving the movie to go fuck before Akaashi’s curfew. 

“True. We’ve done some good shit already.”

“And it’s gonna be even better. Now let’s run home asap.”

Bo snorted. “Have you ever tried to run with a boner before?”

“It’s a figure of speech, moron. And don’t be an ass.”

Bo was laughing harder as they fast walked, not ran, home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter... is _the_ chapter... the one all y'all sinners have been waiting for... 
> 
> bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	15. Sappy Isn't Necessarily a Bad Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY HERE. _The_ chapter. After such a long wait... 
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day, friends!
> 
> And I'm super bitter that this is chapter 15 and not 14 but I guess I don't deserve that coincidence because I'm an obnoxious tease. That's what you get when you hold out on the good stuff for angst, I suppose.
> 
> Please send SO MUCH LOVE to [Hope](http://isabelsmagnoliias.tumblr.com/) , [Ingthing](http://ingthing.tumblr.com/) , [amorevolous](http://archiveofourown.org/users/amorevolous/pseuds/amorevolous) for helping to make this whole thing coherent. The real MVPs of Valentine's Day.

When the front door of Bokuto’s house slammed shut behind them, Akaashi’s heartbeat stuttered almost as loudly as the closing wooden door.

The house was silent and dark, lit only by the light from the digital clock on the cable box. _7:58_. Akaashi had been here before countless times. Hell, he’d been here the other day. But, for some reason, the familiar silhouettes of the furniture were suddenly foreign; it didn’t feel like Bokuto’s house. Akaashi just chalked it up to nerves.

Or maybe it was because Bokuto was standing a little too close to him. He could feel his body heat radiating through his clothes.

“So,” the captain’s voice was barely above a whisper. It was kind of funny, actually. There wasn’t a reason to whisper at all — the house was empty — but still, it was oddly fitting. “Do you want something to drink or, um, something…?”

“I’m okay.”

“Y’sure?”

“Actually,” Akaashi matched his volume and closed the gap between their sides, hips touching together in what must have been the surest act in their entire situation, “Something would be good.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

A small smile materialized on Akaashi’s face. “I’m always making fun of you.”

Bokuto’s following laughter sliced through the tension like a knife, breaking their strange adherence to the silence. It made Akaashi wince, and then he winced again when Bokuto yanked his chest flush against his own, planting a huge kiss on the setter’s temple.

“Wanna go upstairs?” Bo’s arm curled around his back, his palm rubbing loving circles into the base of his spine. Everything about the tight hold was comforting, and so was Bokuto, and Akaashi smiled big and silly into the captain’s chest. Bokuto couldn’t see it, and there was no reason he needed to. It was purely selfish. It was just for Akaashi, to reassure that _yes_ , their doing this wasn’t simply a hormonal thing. That maybe there was a little bit of an emotional attachment coming with it, too.

Or maybe _a lot_ of emotional attachment. Either way, who cared? Akaashi met Bokuto’s eager, intense golden eyes, barely visible in the glow of the street lamp seeping through from the outside. After a moment, Akaashi nodded, flicking on the light switch and beginning to ascend the stairs towards Bokuto’s room.

He’d been to his room many times before. But never for this.

Loud steps followed him all the way up the stairs. Akaashi felt a hand grab his, and he twisted around to give the captain a reproachful look that said _Don’t make this even sappier than this already is, please._ Bokuto’s face got defensive, eyes widening and pursing his lips, and Akaashi just rolled his eyes. 

He didn’t forget to squeeze back, either.

Seconds later they were in the captain’s bedroom. Everything was happening far too fast. Akaashi’s brain crapped out on him and he had a lot of trouble processing it all. Apparently, someone had turned on the light — Akaashi couldn’t really remember who. 

He was, however, able to recall who initiated things - that was definitely _him_. 

Trembling hands shut the door. The bang made Bokuto jump. It was rude but he didn’t apologize, instead stepping into Bokuto’s space and letting him know that he wasn’t fooling around. Akaashi touched their mouths together, cupping his jaw and melting into the highly-awaited contact with a sigh. Bokuto’s strong arms wrapped around his neck, pulling Akaashi closer like it was the most logical thing in the world. 

A small thud signaled to the setter that Bokuto was backed against the door, using it for purchase to keep both of them still. It definitely wasn’t the best place to be sucking face — there was a much more comfortable bed only a few steps away. But, this was nice. Very nice. Akaashi could do it all night, if he had to be honest.

Bokuto, however, was the one to open his mouth and deepen the kiss first. Taken off guard, Akaashi squeaked out a noise that the other took for a moan. _It wasn’t a moan_ , he convinced himself, _not yet_. He was just surprised. 

Bokuto’s arms somehow made it down the length of the setter’s body, and out of nowhere there was a hand confidently cupping his ass and hip, squeezing _just right_ and pulling him up higher, closer. Supporting and groping simultaneously. 

That _definitely_ pulled a moan from Akaashi.

Bokuto dragged his tongue along the roof of his mouth, coaxed Akaashi’s into his so he could suck on it. This was great. Too great. Akaashi’s body, which had lost some warmth and urgency on the way home from the movies, was burning up in no time. The want was back full throttle. Everything was fueling that fire: the quiet of the house, the wet sounds of their liplock, the close, musky smell of Bo’s cologne.

But this wasn’t that comfy of a place. The wood was hard, solid -- no softness. Every time they moved against it, it would creak annoyingly from their weight. Bokuto was most likely experiencing some discomfort in his back and neck, and that simply wouldn’t do. Akaashi broke away, and a small whine slipped through Bo’s nose at the abruptness. Akaashi shushed him — again, _why with insisting on silence?_ — and lowered his hand to palm the taller boy’s crotch. Bo’s pupils blew wide open, his mouth slack, frozen in his spot as Akaashi smiled a soft, coy look as he sauntered over to perch himself on the edge of the bed.

“Fuck.” Bo hissed, Akaashi watching the strong column of his throat jump with his gulp. Akaashi’s entire body throbbed at the swear. He didn’t know why he’d reacted that strongly, but oh well, he liked it.

He also liked it when Bokuto, seconds later, tackled him backwards onto the bed with an onslaught of frantic kisses. He was sure he’d get a bruise somewhere, but the thought left him as soon as it came because Bokuto was worshipping his neck with his lips, his sides with his huge hands, touching him in ways that made him melt. Everything he adored, things he had yet to realize that he adored -- Bo was doing _all of it_ to him. Akaashi bent his knees, rooting his socked feet into the soft mattress, and clenched Bokuto’s hips, keeping him exactly there. Right there. Not stopping.

He didn’t want it to ever stop. 

Akaashi’s fingers scrambled to untuck Bokuto’s dress shirt. When he finally succeeded, frustration coloring his cheeks, he slid his fingers up Bokuto’s bare flesh in relief, stroking his back encouragingly. The captain’s body was so warm, and Akaashi wanted to feel the rest of him, probably just as hot and sculpted and surprisingly soft. On him, around him, _in_ him. 

That was going to happen tonight. Soon. 

They were going to have _sex_.

He dug his nails into his skin, and Bo released a small noise into the crook of his neck that Akaashi absolutely _loved_. 

“This is gonna be good,” Bo promised into his flesh, rubbing his nose into the underside of his jaw. Akaashi’s stomach was forming knots at the little gesture, making his heartbeat accelerate. He closed his legs together, wrapping them snuggly around Bokuto’s hips, crossing his ankles. Bo paused then, peering at Akaashi’s flushed face curiously. When understanding flashed in his face, he started to rub his nose against the setter’s (very flushed) cheek. “Do you like that?”

_Yes, Bokuto, I like affection._

His face must’ve betrayed him, because a huge grin broke out on the captain’s face. He sat up to readjust his position before swooping back down, rubbing their noses together this time, of course with too much force at first and making them both wince in almost pain. Now _this_ was familiar territory. Akaashi started to laugh, and so did Bokuto.

When they settled down, they just stared at one another, glowing smiles on their faces, taking a moment to just breathe, to _enjoy_. Bo brushed some of the setter’s fringe out of his eyes and Akaashi’s smile only widened.

“Am I making this sappy?” The captain asked, keeping his hand in the tuft of messy black hair, playing with it. Akaashi’s eyes went half-lidded, savoring the touch. He refused to answer Bokuto’s question, because _yes it was sappy as hell, but like hell he cared_. But he’d never admit to that, so instead he splayed his hand on Bokuto’s skin, rubbing at the swells of muscle in the middle of his back. 

Bo was craving a response. “Is that a _yes_?”

“It’s more of a _I like it_ , so it’s okay.”

“Good,” Bo sighed, beginning to dot kisses all over his face. Akaashi’s eyes closed all the way then, and he hummed contently at the continued affection the caused his insides to scramble in a way that was more tenderness than arousal.

Akaashi was amazed by how long Bokuto could kiss one area before getting bored of it. He was lingering there for what seemed like forever. Not that he was complaining.

But, maybe he was a little bit impatient. His hands slithered out of Bokuto’s shirt and started to worm himself out of his own sweater. Bokuto stopped him with an odd look.

“What?” Akaashi asked, a little defensively.

“We have to take our time!”

“…we don’t have all night. I told you -“

“No!” Bo huffed, “If we rush it’s gonna _hurt_. I read online -“

“Wait, you read _online_ —?“

“I don’t want this to suck, okay?” Color was rising very quickly on the captain’s cheeks. “A lot of people said that there has to be a ton of foreplay and stuff. Because vaginas are actually weird? And — hey, wait, no listen! I didn’t mean it like — okay, _shut up, don’t be so mean_ , they actually lengthen and like, loosen, when you get turned on. It’s like only three inches long or something crazy like that? And I’m not bragging but, uh, I’m _definitely_ not three inches-“

“Shhh.” Akaashi cut him off with his hand over his mouth. Bokuto’s eyes narrowed and his shoulders deflated, and he looked so defeated it was kinda hysterical. Akaashi managed to rein in his giggles, though, and partially saved his boyfriend’s pride. “Don’t worry, I’ll be _plenty_ aroused.”

When he removed his hand, Bokuto immediately blurted, “I’m gonna get you soaked.”

Glad to know they were on the same page.

“I’m already getting there,” Akaashi smirked. He rocked his hips, pressing into his boyfriend’s crotch, and the captain moaned, eyes growing unfocused. He’d come to realize he had a thing for making Bo moan. So why not continue to fuel that need?

His lips closed around the captain’s earlobe and worried the shell, nibbled it, gliding his tongue over its curves. Akaashi felt powerful when Bokuto bucked his hips into his, trying to get friction, get closer get _off_ , get anything he could. 

“I want you so bad,” the captain whispered, “I wanna make you come.”

“I wanna make you come, too.” Akaashi cooed, his hands flying up to pull at Bo’s hair as he played with his ear. A shiver ran through his body like a current every now and then, but it didn’t last long before Bokuto impatiently turned his head, almost knocking their noses together, and connected their mouths in a full, needy kiss that was far too much tongue. 

But really, it didn’t matter. Kissing was good — they’d been doing a lot of that tonight. A little too much… of just _kissing_ …

Maybe they were both subconsciously holding back. Neither of them were making any moves beyond kissing. Yeah, they were ready, but also, it was reasonable that nerves would linger in every move they made. It was both of their first times. They didn’t really know what to do - in theory _yes_ , but in practice things never work the way they should. They didn’t want to mess up or make mistakes or get flustered and want to quit. 

That was normal, right?

Was it also normal that Bokuto’s erection was pressing against him over and over again? Grinding into his thigh? Because that was kind of hot. Really okay and really hot. 

In his mind, Akaashi wanted to flip him over, straddle the older boy’s thighs. Lowering his hips and rut his own clothed crotch against his, gyrate his hips, actually look sexy and act confidently in his actions. Maybe drip down, crawl back so he could fish his cock out of his fly and go down on him like he’d been wanting to all night. 

In _theory_ , but in _practice_ …

In reality, all he could do was grind his thigh into Bokuto and quietly pray to whoever was listening that Bokuto would make the next move.

Not that making out or grinding wasn’t nice… but he’d be lying if he wasn’t thinking about getting fucked. He wanted friction. Inside friction. He wanted to feel a stretch.

He didn’t want to have to be home for curfew before he could get that.

Okay, things weren’t so hopeless — Akaashi had a little faith in Bo that he would take things to the next level, make him feel good. Chug things along so they'd get to the point where they'd both end up stripping off their clothes and touching body parts that normally didn't get touched by fingers other than their own. Yes. Okay, he did have faith in him.

And they weren't doing so badly with time. There was some wiggle room.

Some.

Okay, maybe faith went hand in hand with a little bit of impatience. At least it did for Akaashi. He smoothed his palms up Bokuto's back, along his starched shirt and skin and cheeks, and suddenly they were making eye contact. It shouldn't have been any different this time. Their eyes meeting, focused on one another. But it was. Akaashi's pulse for some inexplicable reason was quickening at an alarming rate and the paths Akaashi’s fingers scraped down Bo’s skin fushed in his wake. Bokuto licked his lips, skin a little cracked and swollen from kissing. Akaashi just shrugged, mirroring the action. 

Everything seemed still and clear. Black and white. Like things made sense.

Akaashi could feel the captain's pulse, could hear it in his ears, could _feel_ it.

And then he could taste it on Bo's tongue, too.

All of the captain's weight seemed to be bearing down on him. Not that he minded, not by a long shot. If anything, it made Akaashi heady with pleasure, fresh with want. His hands skimmed back to the nape of his neck, scratching Bo, encouraging Bo, trying to tacitly say _yes please please right there I like this I'm ready to keep going, I won't run away I promise_.

So, when that weight concentrated in Bo's hips, pressing down, rutting along, dragging friction along Akaashi's covered slit, and confidently so, he felt a little shaky. A little like he was on fire.

"Do that more," he rasped, saddling up, rhythmically rocking into him in a moment of weakness that sober, not-horny him would be so embarrassed by.

"Yeah?" Bo asked, his voice quivering slightly. Why Akaashi's body pulsed at that was beyond him. "You like that?" Punctuating his question, his cock dragged against him again and Akaashi's toes curled.

"Yeah," Akaashi swallowed thickly, “ _That_ , I’d like it more if you were in me, though.”

“Yeah?” Bo purred. This was so repetitive and dumb but Akaashi couldn’t give a fuck. 

He sucked in a breath, shrugged his shoulders, let his thighs open wider. Bo drank that in, and -- _wow okay_ , that shouldn’t be that hot. Having eyes raking up and down Akaashi’s body, teeth absent-mindedly nibbling his lower lip, fingers tightening on his arms. Akaashi turned his groan into an exhale, short, sharp and very self-conscious. Bokuto didn’t even notice.

Suddenly, Bo pulled away. “I wanna take off my shirt.”

Okay, _shit. Yes, please._

“Can I help?” Akaashi whispered. Why did he whisper? There was no need to do that, no one was home. Akaashi tensed his jaw as he inwardly berated himself, and Bokuto noticed. Of course he did, he was right fucking there. To remedy this increasingly awkward situation the setter instead started to work on the buttons of Bokuto’s dress shirt. 

Bokuto was still as Akaashi fumbled with the garment, attempting to undo all the buttons at once and failing miserably. Apparently, Bokuto wore hard-to-remove shirts, and the setter began to mutter to himself under his breath. That made Bokuto break his silence with a snort. 

“You’re so sexy when you’re undressing me.”

“Shut it,” Akaashi flushed, “don’t wear difficult clothes.”

“Difficult clothes? It’s a button up! We wear these everyday for school!”

“Not in bed, though,” Akaashi mumbled, intently focused on his still-struggling fingers, “it’s too much work.”

“And what exactly isn’t too much work?” Bokuto huffed, being absolutely no help at all.

“…Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Just be naked,” Akaashi refused to meet his eyes, “That’d be easy.”

“Well, that can be arranged.” Next thing he knew, Bokuto was helping Akaashi undo all of his buttons and in no time at all — a huge blow to the setter’s pride — he was shrugging his shirt off his broad shoulders. 

Even with his undershirt still on, Akaashi liked the view. The muscles. The strength from constant hard work over the years that defined his arms, his chest, shoulders, stomach. He was a lot more filled-out than Akaashi was. He’d seen Bo shirtless more times than he could count, but right now it just felt different. For obvious reasons, but still. He even looked firmer, more broad than Akaashi remembered he was. Or maybe he never really paid much attention to that before now.

To the setter’s mixed thankfulness and disappointment, the undershirt was subsequently removed. Bokuto tossed it to his bedroom floor, joining the already-there clutter that he hadn’t bothered to tidy-up. “Better?”

Akaashi just nodded, shamelessly drinking in the sight.

“I’m really ripped, right?” Bokuto bragged, loving the attention. “I’m pretty hot.”

Snorting, Akaashi shoved the captain’s shoulder. “You’re so _modest_.”

“It’s true!”

“Which is? The part about you having zero modesty or the fact that you’re hot?”

Bokuto looked like a puppy caught stealing off his owner’s plate. “Both?”

Fondness guided Akaashi’s fingers to trace down from Bo’s navel to the waist of his pants. Bokuto sucked in a breath as the setter’s nails scraped along the belt buckle, the leather of the strap, reacting to the stark sound it made and how the noise itself seemed to make the captain shiver.

Akaashi just shrugged, not answering, and leaned forward, kiss-swollen lips dragging down the column of Bokuto's throat. Salt, skin, traces of cologne - he dragged them downwards with his mouth, drinking it through his nose and feeling the pulse beneath Bo’s flesh quicken. Akaashi wanted to laugh, but he didn't. He just followed the veins and the tendons down to the juncture where neck met shoulder, pecked it, murmuring a nonsense noise against it before snatching it between his teeth and letting them sink in.

Bokuto's moan was more like a feral growl.

"Shit.” Naked palms pressed against the setter's middle back, his obliques, moving that pressure in a mindless caress. Teeth sunk in deeper, a hiss blew against his bangs, and fingers scrunched the fabric hiding Akaashi's own torso from the captain's reach, "Can I -?"

Pulling off, Akaashi craned his neck up, his mouth level with the other's now, their breaths mingling, lips inches away. "Can you what, captain?"

Being able to see Bokuto's pupils blow, expression shifting with his shocked exhale, and the bob of his Adam's apple with a heavy swallow was honestly such a pleasure.

"Your shirt," Bo struggled to string together the proper words, "I want it off."

Akaashi cocked his head to the side, Bokuto's head tilting with it, not breaching the distance between them, but maintaining, playing with the space, testing both of their limits like the game this was. Because that's what it was. A silly game.

At least that's exactly what Akaashi was making this. Because games were fun. They weren't boring.

(Games apparently were sexier than Akaashi thought they would ever be.)

Definitely not boring, with how the captain was desperately begging to have their mouths slotted together, teeth clacking, saliva swapping. To push Akaashi down again on the bed, hover over him, press their hips together, rut together, slip them into each other, puzzle-pieced as one, such a perfect fit, tight but just the right size —

Breath was a little more labored for the setter. He hadn't even noticed it, or how Bokuto’s hand had traveled up the back of his shirt and was fiddling with his binder. "Can I take this off, too?"

Akaashi swallowed and inched back. He lost this round of the game for now as he pulled his face away and blinked. But that was just instinct, a human response to surprise. But, of course, Bokuto took it as rejection, as self-consciousness —who wouldn’t take that reaction as those things? — and scrambled to fix the screw-up he thought he had made.

"Sorry, you don't have to — Fuck, I'm so sorry, you don't have to —“

"Shh," Akaashi yanked Bo towards him by the shoulder, mouths now so near. It was too hard to resist closing the gap, so Akaashi gave into the urge, leaning in so their breath mingled, lips tickling as he whispered, "don't apologize."

"But —“

"I was just not expecting that. I'm not mad.” Fingers were back on the captain's belt buckle, but the playfulness was magnified to be convincing, more gentle pulling, out of the belt loop, the prong out of the hole, out of the frame and slipping it off entirely, "I'm not mad at all."

Bokuto's breath was caught in his throat. "Would a mad person take off someone else's pants?"

"Depends on how mad they were.“ A huge grin broke the turned-on concentration of the setter’s face, in addition to the weirdly, sexually-intense mood Akaashi was a little embarrassed he had even established, and just shook his head, "I mean, if I was mad, I'd hit them where it hurts."

Bokuto flinched back like had been burned, and said seriously, "Please don't punch me in the dick."

Akaashi's eyes widened. "What?"

“Isn’t that what you just—!?”

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Akaashi scoffed incredulously. "Why in the world would I punch your dick?"

"I'm not sure? I don’t really know what just happened.” Fretfully, Bokuto slumped back to where he was before, his flush trickling down his neck, past the newly-flourishing hickey and into the upper region of his chest, "You started to scare me. I thought you were leading me on or trying to distract me or — I'm just going to shut up, now. Okay."

Akaashi covered his mouth. "I wouldn't punch you. Especially not now, since, y'know."

"That I have a huge fucking boner?"

"Precisely," Akaashi's smile only widened, impossibly so that his cheeks even began to feel strained, "I wanna be a lot nicer to it than that."

The noise that rumbled out of Bokuto’s throat made Akaashi’s playful confidence falter. Was that a general arousal noise? Annoyance at the idiocy of this conversation? Impatience? He hadn’t the vaguest idea but he didn’t have much time to ponder the endless possibilities because suddenly Akaashi was pulled into a hug, a warm rolling motion that pressed their chests together and sandwiched their cheeks, all warm and safe and so affectionately intimate it made the setter’s flesh warm.

Bokuto didn’t say anything, he just hummed happily as he nuzzled into Akaashi, the sound building into a fullness that was just so characteristically Bo. Even though Akaashi was having some difficulties sucking in a full lungful of air (and combined with his binder, it was making him little light-headed). But all the love was nice, tingly nice, ballooning up to the crown of his head and draining to the bottoms of his toes, so he didn’t feel even remotely inclined to make him stop.

_I’m letting him fuck me, letting him hug me is way below that._

But was it way below that? If anything, it felt so much more than that. Physical intimacy was one thing but emotional intimacy, _no_ , that was something else entirely. Of course it was, who was he kidding? Akaashi hadn't had any issue letting Bo go down on him before practice, but suddenly when those feelings morphed into something beyond a casual hook-up every so often, things became uncomfortable. That's when the alarms had started to sound, blaring sirens that told him to settle down and re-evaluate what was actually occurring between them. 

This was miles, light years ahead of simple, uninvested sex. Sex was stupid, he just wanted it because it felt good, because his body benefited from an occasional release here and there. A little pleasure went a long way.

A little affection went much further.

It was ridiculous how instantaneously his cheeks ignited, his mouth contorted into a worried line, his eyebrows knitted in discomfort. And even further, it was so much more atrocious how he submitted to it, curled more wholly around Bokuto, allowed the gentle trailing of his fingertips to firmly plant themselves on the planes of flesh and squeeze, cling to him because he could, like everything depended on this single moment. How he drank in the reality that Bokuto's naked flesh was squashed against him, how his pulse was palpable against his own, how ardent it was. How safe he felt.

If they decided to sit like this and forget to fuck, Akaashi would not regret that.

"You're amazing," the pitch of Bokuto's voice was a half-octave higher, a little more nasally to boot, but it was everything that the setter wanted to hear.

Bo planted a kiss on the top of his head and it made Akaashi's mouth, which had parted to respond, snap shut. Because something embarrassing was wiggling in the back of his throat. Something dangerous, that he couldn't take back. Couldn't pretend like it had never happened, never been said.

Akaashi didn't get scared or anxious very often, but this was one of those times where everything just hit him like a brick.

All he could do was hold him tighter, seal his mouth and pray that nothing irreversible would fly out.

"Really, Akaashi. You mean so much to me."

His heart definitely shouldn't have been thumping so hard, his stomach churning with nonexistent nausea. Struggling to figure out how to respond as neutrally as possible, Akaashi eventually settled on a nod and a deepening of the hug.

That made Bokuto chuckle, the easily-entertained giggle he did when he knew something his opponent didn't on the court, when he was about to use his experience in volleyball to teach the underclassmen a lesson. Akaashi loved the way it sounded, even if it was a little patronizing. He managed to smile, privately into his boyfriend's (fuck, his _boyfriend_ , that realization never got easier to swallow) shoulder. 

But it didn't stop at the giggling. The mirth turned into physical affection peppered over his scalp, down to his left ear, his temple, down his neck. Akaashi squirmed as Bokuto showered him with kisses. It seemed he was engaging every ticklish spot on the setter's body, and Akaashi’s laughter bubbled through his clenched jaw and slipped through the spaces between his teeth.

"I got you to laugh!" Cheering, Bokuto increased the volume of his kisses with triumph, the gusto in every little peck only escalating after each one. Akaashi could only laugh harder, still cuddled into the captain, and he couldn't have been happier.

Tonight was filled with being proved wrong, apparently. He was even _happier_ when Bokuto pushed him backwards onto the bed. On his back, Akaashi gazed up at Bokuto hovering over him, their thighs barely inches apart. A joyful flush made Bokuto's face glow — it looked healthy and cute on him. Akaashi was about to tell him so but Bokuto beat him to the punch.

"You're gorgeous."

Now he didn't have anywhere to hide, the anxiety started to leaden down his stomach. 

"Really," Bo bolstered, eyebrows arching up with some sort of inner thought flitting through the captain's brain, "you're really, really pretty."

Akaashi didn't know what to say, because every response springing forward into his conscience was both embarrassing and too much and he still felt like he was teetering on an emotional precipice he wasn't ready to fall off yet. So, a non-answer was his best course of action. "What's up with all the compliments?"

That just made the captain snort. "You're letting me put my dick in you. I better compliment the hell outta you."

Akaashi shrugged and laughed into his shoulder and the sheets, fully and unrestrained. “Yeah, you _better_.”

“Oh, I better?” Bokuto challenged, and grabbed Akaashi’s sweater by the hem and started to pull it up, simultaneously tickling him in the process. “I better, Akaashi?”

Scrambling for escape, Akaashi grabbed his top and pulled it back down, defensively, a measure of protection. But Bo just _tsked_ , whistling in dismay as he teased, “So you _don’t_ want your clothes to come off.”

Akaashi felt it was warranted to kick him. So he did.

“Hey!”

“Hey, what?” He challenged, pulling his sweater off and flinging it to the abyss of the floor. Akaashi started to work on his binder while he watched Bokuto’s miffed expression melt into the hungry look he had been adorning pre-kick. “You were being annoying.”

“Sorry, my bad…” was the distracted reply.

Why was Bokuto being so weird all of a sudden? What was the —Then it hit Akaashi. “You’ve never seen me without a shirt on, right?”

Bokuto swallowed and nodded.

“Oh. Sorry.” Akaashi smiled a little nervously as he managed to wriggle his binder off, taking a little longer because of the stage fright, and discarded it similarly to Bo’s clothes (even though that kind of stressed him out, but he didn’t have time to be anal about folding clothes). Sucking in a full, relieving breath, he let his shoulders relax and tried not to let the nervousness in his gut overwhelm him. “Well, there you go.”

Bokuto looked positively silly. He was staring, unabashedly so, and it took him a moment or two to collect his bearings. When he became somewhat less distracted, he instinctively reached out towards the newly exposed skin. But he winced, his actions catching up to him, his brain obviously scolding _no! ask permission!_ or something of that nature because the next thing out of the captain’s mouth was, “…Can I?”

Akaashi nodded, but first adjusted himself horizontally on the bed, below Bokuto, new heat pooling into his hips at being so physically and symbolically submissive. Akaashi attempted to grin welcomingly, but it was short-lived because Bo’s mouth was too quickly on his chest, trailing his ribs, up to his collarbone, and then back down to the fleshy nubs. With a soft kiss, he took the left one between his lips and sucked.

Oh fuck, _what_?

That was not the feeling he expected to ignite in his chest, shoot down like electricity to his cunt and _pulse_. Oh god. They were sensitive. His nipples were _sensitive_. Really sensitive - more so than a bit of masturbatory tweaking and pinching had previously led him to believe.

Shit, this was great news.

Bokuto growled against him, the vibration reverberating in his chest. Suddenly things felt like they were on a whole different level. Akaashi squeaked at the sensation, sucking in a small breath and arching into the bed as he clamped down on his lower lip. Okay, this was fucking great. Each suck and lick to his nipple kept traveling down in his core, clenching his insides in a satisfying way. When he had joked about being wet enough, well…. that was already achieved before, but now it was way beyond that. He felt soaked and sticky and slick, every little ministration made his cunt tingle, just wanting to be filled and pounded and made all _achey_ and _good_.

But then Bo bit down and Akaashi’s body tensed up and he yelped out a noise that didn’t quite sound like himself.

Immediately Bokuto pulled away, his lips shiny with saliva, concern and a whole lot of guilt in his eyes. But before he had a chance to apologize and ask if he was okay, Akaashi pulled him back down, pressed his chest against Bo’s and reassured, albeit huskily, “I’m fine, more biting.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, just, do it more.” Akaashi answered, biting his lip as he squeezed Bo’s shoulders. “Feels good.”

“Oh, so I’m just a sex master. Not that we didn’t already know that.”

Akaashi shoved him with a huff and an eye roll but didn’t exactly correct him. Bokuto grinned and used a kiss to guide Akaashi back down and get him comfortable, and soon enough his teeth were scraping over the neglected nipple and Akaashi struggled to keep his throat locked up.

That didn’t work so well.

Another bite, a tug, and Akaashi was keening how _good_ that was, exhaling a loud, body-deflating hum. And Bo’s fingers flew up to his other nipple, and started to twist and pinch and Akaashi was sure this was all he needed for the rest of his life, as he lay there, knees twitching every so often with every current of pleasure that shook his bones.

As Bo worked, a newer, fuller rush of arousal ached in his hips. All he could think about was how much his cunt begged for something inside it. How hot it was getting, almost uncomfortably hot, because _fuck_ , he was so horny it hurt. He wanted some stimulation down there - more than some, actually. Full on stimulation. He needed it now, and no, it wasn’t a time thing. Not now, at least. Akaashi just wanted, needed penetration because his body was screaming at him to get it. The flashes of pleasure his nipples were giving him were good. Better than good. He couldn’t remember when he had ever felt this disgustingly, wholly soaked. The urge to slip his hand down, play with his stickiness and spread it all up and down his slit, have Bo play with that stickiness too, was almost too much.

“Bo-“

And then more pressure in his bite, and Akaashi gasped, sharp and loud, and _shit_ , Bokuto was moaning against his skin, too. 

“Shit,” Akaashi shivered, his nails scraping into Bokuto’s skin, trying to organize his jumbled, hazy thoughts, “alright.”

“You want more?”

Akaashi didn’t say anything, but his expression seemed to be convincing enough.

Bo resumed sucking on his nipple, more intensely and bit harsher, tugging it away from his torso, flicking it with his tongue before he mollified the abused nub with a kiss. The sensation made his body convulse, hot and overwhelming and tearing out a legitimate yelp from his throat. It was good. It was so good. And he couldn’t hold out anymore, no more torture, no more games, he wanted this _now_. 

“Just fuck me already,” Akaashi whined, pulling Bo closer, tucking his chin into his shoulder as Bo kept biting each nub, worrying them between his teeth. Akaashi’s insides shivered. “C’mon, it’s fine. I’m ready. Just.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You’re not, idiot.” Akaashi grumbled in frustration, grounding his hips into Bo’s obviously stiff prick in what he hoped was convincing enough for him to realize that he was ready. “I want you.”

Bokuto groaned and nudged his swollen, covered cock into Akaashi’s groin as he answered, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, _captain_.” 

Akaashi had meant that to come out teasingly, but that didn’t really happen as planned. He said it more like a moan. 

Bo’s entire face flushed, and he gave Akaashi this terrified and turned on look that made the setter’s stomach flip. Nervous arousal. That’s what that was. Bo licked his lips awkwardly, and then his mouth was on Akaashi’s throat, sucking new marks, sucking old ones, too, and Akaashi just wanted the teasing to be over and done with.

“Bo, please. You can do that with -“

“- with my fingers in you?”

Akaashi grumbled, a clearly displeased sound. “No. With your _cock_.”

“Akaashi!” Bo halted on his neck, scandalized. “That’s really dirty — _oh my god, I’m so sorry_.”

“What?” Akaashi blinked, staring at the older teen in clear confusion who was pulling away from his body with the most horrified expression on his face. Had he done something wrong? Why was Bo suddenly looking so embarrassed?

“I…” He stuttered, conflict ruining his coherency, “…your _chest_.”

“What?” He repeated, not understanding.

“Hickeys.” Bokuto admitted it like it was the most heinous of crimes. “On your nipples.”

What? 

He touched his hand to his chest, and just sent the captain a weirded-out look. Leaning up, he straightened his spine, his vertebrae cracking with the move and then stared down. To his surprise, his nipples were starting to bruise. ‘Starting’ was the wrong word. They weren’t even pink anymore. 

Bokuto pulled away and sunk back onto his haunches. As he gripped his own thighs with a death grip, he lamented, “I didn’t know that could happen?”

“Me neither…”

“I’m so sorry,” Bo apologized again, “I’m really sorry, jeez.”

Had he missed something? Was this supposed to be a bad thing? Like an unforgivable sex thing? Yeah, he hadn’t realized you could get a hickey on his nipples and maybe it was bad etiquette but… but so what? It felt nice, doing things like this with Bo felt really good and well… he didn’t care if he had some marks to show for it. Besides, who would see these except for him? “It’s fine.”

“Really,” Bo continued, “I’m so sorry. I know you hate me.”

“Why’re you so freaked out about this?” Akaashi was exasperated. “And I don’t.”

“I just… I’m sorry?”

“Bo, I liked it. I liked it a lot. If you keep going, with the biting, I mean… I’d _really_ like it.”

“But- “

“Stop, it’s fine. Can we just - move on to the next thing?”

A beat of silence blanketed over them. “Um.”

Akaashi exhaled and sent his attention downward to Bokuto’s pants, and gave his very obviously strained cock a nice, firm squeeze. “I want you, Bo.”

Bokuto’s eyes were glassy, and his hips raised up to meet his grip. “Shouldn’t I… y’know…”

“No,” he bit his lip. How could he convince him that it was going to be all right? He’s had fingers up there before, and really, with how unbelievably soaked he was, he was sure it wasn’t gonna be agonizing. Maybe a little uncomfortable at first, but he’d deal with it. His fingers would slide right in, and honestly, he was a little worried there wouldn’t be any friction at all.

Akaashi motioned to get some room, and awkwardly and eventually, they maneuvered together and ended up with his pants dropped carelessly to the floor. Goosebumps were popping up on his thighs, but he ignored them and instead focused on guiding Bo’s hand to the crotch of his boxer briefs and had him press against his clothed slit, radiating with unbelievable heat.

Bo sucked in a breath as he pressed into the fabric, the damp, warm fabric. He traced up and down the curve, the outlines of his slit more defined from the moistness. Akaashi shivered out a breath and he pulled Bokuto’s mouth to his, kissing sloppily slow as Bo stroked him, _finally_.

The relief that crashed over him was the most incredible feeling, and just the direct touch made him gasp.

Bokuto’s fingers got bolder, and with more pressure, Akaashi had widened his thighs and moaned unabashedly into the lip-lock. It was almost ticklish in a toe-curling kinda way. It felt good, especially since Bo more or less knew what he was doing when he thumbed at his clit and circled it firmly. That was really gratifying. But it wasn’t enough. Akaashi wanted more. 

A lot more.

“Touch me,” Akaashi mumbled as Bokuto peppered kisses along the edge of his mouth.

“I am,” Bo laughed a little, using his knuckles to apply more force against his actual entrance, and Akaashi knocked his knees together. He just wanted to get something in him already. The teasing right then made him groan, clear, and Bokuto brought their mouths together again and started to suck on his tongue.

When he could talk again, his tongue freed, Akaashi dragged his fingernails down the other’s spine, to the base of the curvature of his hips, and squeezed. “No. Not through my underwear.”

Bokuto made a sound, either understanding or a moan, it was difficult to tell, and crept his fingers through the boxer briefs’ right thigh opening and traveled up until — Bokuto gasped, staring at Akaashi with a renewed flush.

“You’re so -“

Akaashi pressed his lips together. “I told you.”

“You’re so wet.” It sounded like praise, because that’s exactly what it was.

“I want this, I told you.” Akaashi croaked, not really knowing how to handle compliments about how much discharge his body produced. “Don’t think you’re gonna hurt me, okay?”

Bo was only half paying attention. “It’s so soft.” He mumbled, still awestruck. His fingers were exploring his folds reverently, through all the warm gooeyness, spreading it around, rubbing it around his clit especially, his strokes easier and smoother. _Fluid._ “You feel so good.”

Akaashi felt the top of his chest warm up, skin prickling. “Thanks.”

“I can — right?” Bo tugged on the bottoms of the setter’s underwear hopefully.

“What’ve I been saying this whole time?” Akaashi rolled his eyes. However, he still helped him remove the boxer briefs, leaving his entire body bare except for his socks. They were black and ankle-length and they looked so stupid, so dark on his pale exposed skin, and Akaashi tugged them off quickly, hoping Bo didn’t notice.

He did though, and just laughed. But it was short lived because his gaze eventually was drawn back down in between Akaashi’s legs, his face softening with blatant desire. The staring was making the setter’s gut squirm - okay, so maybe he was a little self conscious. And getting ogled was kind of uncomfortable, but the way Bokuto’s adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow, and the intensity between them was enough to keep Akaashi from closing his legs and running away. 

“Fuck.” Bo swore.

“Please?”

Even the slight joke wasn’t enough to break the tension. It didn’t even get a laugh.

Another moment went by, and Bokuto finally had the courtesy to look up, his eyes cloudy, and asked, a little wobbly, “Can I eat you out?”

Akaashi’s mouth went dry. “Um.”

“Just for like a minute or… five?” Bokuto smiled, very obviously trying to be persuasive, but still enough to tug on the setter’s heartstrings. Akaashi watched the captain’s hands absentmindedly twitch on his thighs, unconsciously rubbing himself, trying to subconsciously give some relief to the clearly swollen, needy lump in the crotch of his pants. “I just — _fuck_.”

What could he say? A minute wouldn’t hurt. Actually, it’d feel fucking awesome. Getting his cunt eaten was really, really good. But… he also didn’t want things to go overboard. He wanted sex. He wanted to get fucked for a nice long while, and he didn’t want either of them to come too quickly and prematurely cut this short. 

But, a minute he could do. “Fine.”

Bokuto looked like he had won the lottery.

“Just, not too long, okay?” Akaashi warned as Bo sunk down to his torso, and lifted his thighs over his shoulders. “I wanna get to the — Oh, _okay_.”

Akaashi rolled his head to the side and focused on his breathing and hissed, “Shit,” as he dropped his hand down to Bokuto’s scalp to encourage him with gentle tugs on his hair.

The kisses along his vulva were soft. Like a familiar warmth, soothing, making pleasure hum low inside his hips. But after a moment the kisses got bolder, and they were sweeping over him everywhere. But the ones on his clit were tender, and it made Akaashi shiver, soft _yeahs_ leaving his mouth in small gasps almost too inaudible to hear.

A minute had definitely gone by, but Akaashi didn’t have the heart (or self-restraint) to stop him.

On the other hand he didn’t want to because suddenly there was something inside him, two fingers, rubbing at his dripping, shuddery walls and Akaashi’s upper body curled, a huge smile on his face as he shut his eyes and basked in the sensation of the fingers breaching his body.

Bo was fingering him, _finally_. Even though he originally said he didn’t want it. But, shit. This was nice. It wasn’t tentative or nervous. They were confident, firm movements, crooking when they should, stroking when he needed. Mm. Akaashi’s hips rolled with the stimulation, and stuttered when a little suction or a lick swept over his clit. And while that happened, Bokuto’s free hand rubbed at his left inner thigh, and it was everything he could’ve wanted.

“Can you -“

And the fingers were out of him and instead the mouth sucking on his clit was sucking on his hole, and that was so unexpected and wonderful it got Akaashi gripping the bedsheets for dear life.

“No, not that.” He whimpered in a very _unconvincing_ way. “Can we move on to -“

“One sec, okay?” Bo pleaded, caressing his nose into the upper half of his slit. 

“Bokuto, _please_.”

Bokuto stopped and leaned up, meeting Akaashi’s lidded eyes. The setter was red-faced and panting, and he begged, “I want you.”

That made something in the other _click_ , and Bokuto just nodded dumbly and maneuvered himself out from underneath the setter and onto his feet. Akaashi watched him stagger across the room, steps unnatural from his erection. He dug through a drawer, swearing to himself and apologizing profusely and, eventually, with clear gratitude, pulled out a shiny, small square.

Akaashi’s core throbbed. There it was. That _thing_.

“So, um,” Bokuto scratched the back of his neck, “I’m just gonna put this on then.”

“Okay.” Akaashi nodded, sitting up, his knees up at his chest and his arms around his shins. He felt small. “Do it.”

Bokuto made his way back to the bed, and climbed on. But immediately, he cursed and got off. Akaashi raised an eyebrow but Bokuto just started to inelegantly pull off his pants and underwear in hurried motions. Akaashi definitely didn’t watch the way his cock bobbed when it was free, drinking in how shiny and flushed the head was.

That was gonna be in him.

Yeah, he was nervous but… that was gonna be _in_ him.

Bokuto crawled back onto the bed, jittery all over. It was cute, yes, but also a little worrisome. Because anything could make or break Bokuto Koutaro in an instant, and this was something that definitely had the potential of breaking him. Sex was scary, especially since neither of them had done it before. It was stressful. And if the stress got even more overwhelming, this had the potential of not happening.

Bokuto’s mood swings certainly had the power to kill his boner.

So Akaashi needed to do whatever he could to build up that confidence in the other and make him feel good about himself.

Akaashi scooted closer, trailing his fingertips along the captain’s left quad. Then he sucked in a breath of confidence and said, “I can’t wait, you look so good.”

Bokuto just blinked, a little too flustered and disoriented to understand what was going on. “Um.. thanks?”

 _Okay, so this was going to require more effort._ Operation Stroke Bokuto’s Ego could not be half-assed.

“You’re so big,” Akaashi smiled, almost _slurred_ , those fingertip caresses traveling up to his hip, dragging on the low part of his belly.

Now _that_ was the right thing to say. Because Bokuto sucked in a breath, almost like a hiccup, and Akaashi watched him twitch. He simply stared at the setter, and when he was ready he pulled him closer, dotting kisses along the curvature of his throat. Akaashi shivered to his toes, and wrapped his hands around Bokuto’s lower back.

“You think I’m big?” He probed, mumbling into his throat.

“Yeah. You’re really _thick_ , too.”

Bokuto’s body shuddered.

This was so easy, winding him up like this. Even though these words were all embarrassing to say out loud, he knew he needed to in order to keep Bokuto from getting consumed and ultimately dejected by performance anxiety. It was better to nip the issue in the bud before it had a chance to blossom.

“Going to feel so full.” Akaashi mouthed, craning his neck back when those kisses turned sharper, made him hoist his hand up to tease the crown of Bokuto’s head. “It’ll feel so _good_.”

“Wanna make you feel awesome,” Bokuto hissed, pressing Akaashi into the mattress and hovering over him. “Wanna make you come.”

 _Me too, dummy_.

And then, as expected, they were kissing. It seemed like the right thing to do, anyway.

But it didn’t last long because Bokuto was pulling back and fiddling with the condom. Akaashi was going to offer help (but it wasn’t like he knew how to put it on, either) but it was unnecessary because in the next moment he watched the captain remove the condom and roll it over himself in a significantly less tense and awkward way than Akaashi anticipated he would. 

“Impressed?”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes. “By what?” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the condom. “That? Did you practice?”

Bokuto puffed out his chest, obviously full of pride. “Yeah, I did.”

Akaashi felt terrible about bursting out into laughter.

“H-hey! I practiced for _you_!”

That was far more endearing than it should be.

The silence must of been unbearable because Bo continued babbling on, “I didn’t want you to have to wait or be nervous about this because… what kind of guy can’t put a condom on his own dick, y’know?”

“Okay, stop.” giggling still, Akaashi brought down the captain’s face to his and touched their foreheads’ together. “You’re ridiculous. And I like it a lot.”

“I like you!” 

Akaashi grinned, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of the other’s neck and said softly, “I like you, too.”

“I’m happy.”

“Me too.”

And then they kissed again, not because it felt right, but because it was impossible not to. At some point Bokuto grabbed for one of his pillows and propped it under Akaashi’s head. “Are you cold?”

“Hm?”

“We could get under the blanket. Your skin’s all prickly.”

Akaashi shook his head. “Like this is fine. Besides… it’s not gonna be cold for very long.”

“Dude, that was _awful_.”

Akaashi took it as a compliment and glowed. 

“So, well,” Bo brushed his fingers along Akaashi’s cheek, his touches so fragile, “we’re gonna do this.”

“We are.” Akaashi raised his chin, a coy smile on his mouth as he rubbed Bo’s biceps in encouragement. 

“Should I just —“ he faltered, licking his lips, his hands cupping his face more firmly, “um.”

“Put it in?”

“I-I guess…”

Akaashi snickered. “Yeah, just do it.” He pecked the corner of Bo’s mouth. “Go in slow.”

Bo exhaled at that, “So it doesn’t hurt?”

“Well, yeah. But I also want to be able to feel you.”

Being so close to him and seeing his face ignite with color was really something else. Bokuto just mumbled something, something Akaashi couldn’t quite decipher. Then he sat back on his haunches and patted Akaashi’s thighs, giving loving strokes to the outside. “You wanna get comfy first?”

That was probably a good plan. Some neck and lower back support was definitely ideal… But also… how were they doing this? Position wise?

“Are we -?”

“What?”

“Normal?”

Bokuto just regarded him with absolute uncertainty. “ _Normal_?”

Akaashi wanted to slap himself. “On my back?”

“Oh. _Oh_ … Yeah, that’s probably best.” 

Akaashi scooted back a bit and got his head and shoulders propped up by the pillows, tucking in his tailbone to support it flushly against the bedspread. As he adjusted, Bokuto did too, and eventually, they were situated together, Bo holding Akaashi’s hips on either side of his own while trying his best to stay composed. Below him, Akaashi had no idea what to do with his hands. He felt like a dead fish, just all comfy and laid out and useless. He knew he was turning red, but he didn’t know what to do to feel any less humiliated.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Bo bleated, getting worked up from the setter’s obvious nerves. He lowered himself, Akaashi not missing the way his abdominals shifted with the move, so he could kiss the setter’s cheek. “We’re gonna… do our best! Okay! And if it sucks well… we can stop and… figure it out later..?”

Akaashi broke out into a small smile. “That’s reassuring.”

“I mean… not really.”

“Here, just,” Bo grabbed Akaashi’s left arm, “hold onto me.”

Akaashi didn’t need to be told twice. Both his arms snaked around Bokuto’s sides and held him in a firm, much-needed embrace. He had his face in the captain’s neck, and just breathed him in, all his sweat and pheromones and fear. 

He felt like he should say something cheesy, but he had no idea what to say. And it probably was just his hormones screaming to make this _special_. 

Bo’s grip on his hips changed, and Akaashi made a small perplexed noise when his legs pulled up a bit, and then he _felt_ it. A weight touching his folds. Bo didn’t say anything but he sure as hell was awkwardly tense.

And he didn’t move for a moment. He was breathing, and Akaashi was focusing on his own too, trying to keep his stuttering pulse from leaping out of his throat. 

But then there was the telltale inhale and the shifting of his hips and Akaashi knew it was about to happen.

He tried to have it so he exhaled when Bokuto started to enter him, so his muscles would relax, so he wouldn’t be so rigid, but it didn’t work. He was halfway through a deep inhalation when Bokuto gingerly pressed the tip of his erection inside him. Instead of depressing the air from his chest Akaashi sucked in a huge breath that sounded like a gasp. Because it _was_ a gasp.

_Oh._

That was definitely not what he was expecting. The stretch _burned_. Not in an excruciating way, not in a way that made him want to stop, but in a way that was just so present and whole. He felt full already, so different than what he thought full would feel like, and Bo was barely halfway in. His fingers dug into Bo’s body, he couldn’t help himself, but it wasn’t out of pain, it was the need for stability.

Akaashi was unstable, kind of uncomfortable, but he knew that’d be over soon.

Bokuto, on the other hand, was definitely _very_ comfortable. 

He was groaning through his nose, eyebrows knit. His sinking in was slow, and Akaashi could feel how he restrained himself and kept steady from surging and hurting the setter. Bo’s grip was iron-tight on his thighs, there’d definitely be bruises tomorrow, and every so often he would swear under his breath. And all the _fucks_ he kept whispering to himself were a sign that this was certainly one of the most pleasurable things he’d ever experienced.

Eventually Bo was wholly inside him, his balls touching the curve of his butt. He was taking big, open-mouthed breaths against Akaashi’s ear, and Akaashi was doing his best not to stay this tense.

“Oh my god,” Bo strained as he gritted his teeth, his hips heavy against Akaashi’s, “you feel so — _fuck_.”

Breathing felt weird — like his lungs didn’t have room to fully expand anymore. He felt like he couldn’t move. But it wasn’t from pain. He was struggling, yeah. But not really. He just didn’t know how to fully process the feeling of being so stuffed. He didn’t hate it, but he wasn’t sure if he really liked it yet, either. 

But, Bokuto did. So that was good.

And then he remembered that he had to respond.

“You do too,” Akaashi said thickly, rubbing into the captain’s back muscles. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s just… a lot.” Akaashi huffed, flexing his toes into the blanket, “I’ll get used to it.”

“So… Can I?” Really Bo didn’t need to ask because he simultaneously did what he was asking permission to do and shoved his weight into his hips, pressing into Akaashi even deeper, almost with a little hip roll. Akaashi’s jaw tensed and he whimpered through his nose at the sensation, fingernails biting into Bokuto’s flesh, his tummy dropping back towards his spine, trying to move away and move in closer at the same time.

“Shit,” Bokuto froze, “did that hurt?”

“ _No_.” He rasped, his feet finding better purchase on the bed. “Not quite.”

“Do you want a sec?”

“Yeah, but, you can do that again. I’m not ready for you to actually move yet.”

Bo followed those instructions easily. He rolled his hips gently, furthering his reach into the setter’s core. Akaashi tentatively rocked his own body, and he shivered, overloading his nerves with the added stretch and pressure inside himself. This definitely felt okay. It wasn’t quite pleasure, it was weird. His body was reacting to it like it was - there was a warmth in his belly and an instinctual want to continue, but the sensations he was actually feeling didn’t necessarily feel _good_ , they just were intense. But not in a bad way. Just intense.

Even with all that muchness going on in his insides, Akaashi had trouble tearing his focus away from the wet squelching sounds. Every time Bo moved, this slippery noise would punctuate the air, along with the bed creaking and their reactionary, labored breath. It sounded so lewd. It sounded wet. The most unbelievable thing though was that this was all Akaashi. He was causing those sounds, and for some reason, it was kind of sexy. Bo was in him and moving and making him make those thick, dirty noises.

Akaashi flushed and tried not to think too hard about that.

And well, that was easy because he couldn’t think of anything when Bokuto withdrew himself, slid out of him a few inches and thrust back in in a clean stroke. 

With a wheeze, Akaashi’s shoulders hunched and he gaped open-mouthed at the ceiling.

All right, this was definitely good.

Bo, strangely, had his mouth shut. He was focused on Akaashi’s face, which was open and starting to creep up with red and maybe even beginning to get a bit sweaty. Akaashi flicked his gaze down and looked at Bo, who was hovering above him, and _really_ looked at him. The captain’s face was pleading, silently, nervousness and determination and arousal blending together in his starkly-colored eyes. Akaashi felt small, he didn’t know why.

But, with a heavy swallow and a nod, he let Bo do what he wanted. (It was what he wanted, too).

Pulling back and surging forward had Akaashi sounding like someone punched the air out of his lungs. And when Bo did it again, the same thing occurred, except this time heat ripped up through his spine and he almost forgot where he was. 

That was what he’d been waiting for.

He nodded again, a little more emphatically, hoping the captain would get the message. Bo released a relieved, guttural noise and pulled his hips back a little more this time around and moved in forward again, take the liberty of using more force. 

Akaashi wrapped his legs around Bo’s waist and the first, truly primal moan left his throat as he turned his face towards the wall.

The sensations weren’t really what he’d been expecting, but that wasn’t a bad thing by far. It was a good thing. This was better. This felt more real, like what sex should be. Feeling the other person’s breath on his neck, body weight pressing down, heartbeat in his throat, cramps in his hands from how tightly he was gripping Bo. And not to mention the actual sex. Fuck, he couldn’t wrap his head around it. How something stretching his insides and moving in and out of him, literally quashing his guts, packing them in tight, could feel so mind-numbingly, body-tingling good was unbelievable. It was a constant steadiness that had a lulling effect and a pleasurable shock, a low buzz on an electric fence with every move, all at once. It was so good. Akaashi had shut his eyes at some point, gnawing on his lower lip as Bokuto experimented with pace, with rhythm and force. 

For some reason he kept holding his breath, and when his lungs burned and felt like they were about to pop, he’d gasp, the oxygen burst rushing through his bloodstream like a drug, and he’d greedily gulped it all down. 

For the most part, though, he was quiet. It was different than having his clit played with. That was more little bursts, like brief twinkling of starlight, more igniting, like sparks. This wasn’t those things — it was steady and grounded, full.

Akaashi was glad no one could see inside his brain. This thought process was so embarrassing.

“Hey,” Bo grunted into his ear, “you feel good, right? Now?”

Hm. Bokuto had been rather quiet. He’d missed that.

“Yeah.” Akaashi’s fingers went up to play with the nape of Bokuto’s neck, threading through his hair with his numb, clammy fingers. “Do you?”

A low groan was his response. “You’re so wet and hot and it’s like - oh god, ‘kaashi.”

“Like _what_?”

“Like— “ Bo shifted his weight and his angle changed a bit, and Akaashi crooned at the new sensations, “—like you’re sucking me inside.”

Every word went straight down to his cunt in a throb. Both of them moaned at the sensation, that connection. Akaashi pulled at Bo’s hair and rocked his hips, confidently, trying to keep time with the captain’s pace. 

“Oh god,” Bokuto swore barely above a whisper, “ _Akaashi_.”

His hands traveled up and down the captain’s back muscles and shoulders and arms were feeling along his heated flesh, smearing the light sheen of sweat starting to coat his skin. He was doing so much, he was doing so many good things, and Akaashi wanted to make this as memorable as he could.

“You’re so good at this,” Akaashi breathed into his ear, “you’re the _best_.”

Bokuto hiccuped some sort of sound. “Y-yeah?”

This was so easy. Akaashi loved how effortless it was. “Mmhm, _captain_.”

Bokuto sounded like he was kneed in the gut and his rhythm faltered for a beat. 

_Oh_ , he liked that. A lot. Somebody had a _thing_.

“Keep going, captain,” Akaashi mouthed into the hollow of his throat, “fuck me the way you want to.”

The harsh thrust forward ripped a yelp out of Akaashi’s throat, had his body locking up with pure pleasure, and he arched his body into the pillows and murmured a slew of nonsense as he tried to wrap his head around how fucking amazing that felt. So freaking amazing. Indescribable. _This_ was _fucking_. Messy, slicked up, sweaty.

It was easier to meet Bokuto’s pace like this. He used his back to leverage himself and curve up into each pounding surge, and _yeah_ , that was satisfying. Friction and force, all slicked and loud and lewd. He felt his stickiness drip down his slit, the plush of his ass, sticky up his thighs. He felt so wet, honestly the wettest he’d ever been, and Bo was just slipping in and out of him so easily. Even when he accidentally pulled out during his thrusts and apologized with a huge flush, slipping back in to pick up where he left off, the penetration was smooth and easy and super pleasurable unlike what it had been when he first entered inside.

So much so that Akaashi made him stop and slow down.

“Again, but, slower.” He panted, hands smoothing down Bo’s chest, down to the v of his hips, to the birthmark on his left side.

Bokuto, confused, removed himself, and when he pierced back in, he took his time, gradually burying himself to the hilt, his body melting with the movement. Akaashi’s gaze softened and his breath lagged, legs tightening around the other’s waist. Bo quickly got the idea, and changed up the rhythm. Slow thrusts, each pulling all the way out and sinking back in, pushing through and snagging on the tight ring of muscle of his entrance each time. Akaashi felt like he was in heaven. But that didn’t last long, because Bo’s prick wanted friction and speeding up was bound to happen eventually. 

And it wasn’t like Akaashi didn’t want that either.

Akaashi shuddered when the pace accelerated and harshened, because, _wow_. It was beginning to feel overwhelming, but in a good way. His mind was getting cloudy, and experiencing the moment was the only thing he could pay any attention to. 

And that got only worse when Bo lurched down to mouth his nipple while he pounded away into him. Akaashi figured that would be enough to help along the tension in his gut, but that wasn’t quite it. The way he was had his hips shifting, and Bo was snapping up at a different angle, higher. And suddenly things were feeling even better, more electrified, more like he could feel his body working on building up towards an orgasm. Akaashi moaned into his own shoulder, tensing his jaw, so engulfed in all the pleasure his body was being slammed with. He was pretty sure the change was from his g-spot getting some love right now, but that was the furthest thing from his conscience. Bo was fucking him nice, really well. The mattress was squeaking kinda nice, the headboard knocking into the wall every so often kinda nice.

Nice enough to _scream_.

He pulled Bo’s hair, whimpering for him to keep going, keep fucking, keep making him feel so good he couldn’t think.

“I hope I can last,” Bo choked out, heaving into Akaashi’s body with faltering strength.

“C’mon, just -“ and he cut himself off with a small cry as he tugged Bo’s hair in what was definitely a painful way when his teeth scraped his nipple.

“I’m gonna come,” Bo whimpered pathetically, his hips losing their rhythm, dissolving it into unsteady jerks, “Oh fuck, not yet…”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi bit his lip, a little disappointment flaring inside his chest, “Just… it’s fine. Come.”

Bo’s thrusts got really shallow and erratic and moments later he was scrunching his face and burying it in Akaashi’s neck, staccato, breathless, so-happy moans muffling into skin. Akaashi rubbed his back while he stuttered to a gradual stop, skimming down to his butt, giving him a squeeze, letting him catch his breath as he rutted into Akaashi’s body with post-orgasmic bliss, mumbling nonsense about how _fucking amazing_ that was, how good, how his balls hurt but in such a great way, how he wanted to stay inside him forever, how soft his cunt was, how much he _loved_ —

And Bo cut himself off with a heavy breath and tried to not collapse his spent self on his boyfriend. Akaashi’s stomach had dropped and he was suddenly overcome in a different way. His heart was doing things he didn’t want it to, and Bokuto was sweaty and weighing him down, and he was getting his cheek kissed and Akaashi needed to move on, the ache in his chest too much and he just wanted to stop being so fucking overdramatic and be _normal_ for once in this relationship.

“You didn’t come, right?” Bo said thickly, ashamed, sucking on his throat when he was confident he could speak again.

“No.” He swallowed. Bokuto was soft inside him at this point, and it made his gooey insides feel even more nasty.

“I’ll get you there, don’t worry, Keiji.”

It was whispered into his ear, and Akaashi almost screamed. No no _NO_. This was too sappy already. His emotions were already a disaster, he had been interrupted from his buidling orgasm and his body was cooling down and the chill in the air was getting to him and he didn’t need this. Not right now. He covered his mouth and looked away at the wall when Bo slipped out of his body, climbing down and returning his face to the heat between his legs once more and wasting no time in getting the job finished.

Akaashi bit his palm and closed his eyes. He heaved through his nose, harshly, panting, as Bo’s tongue and fingers and lips worked his fucked cunt. He pinched his clit between his thick fingers, sucked on his loosened hole, shoving his tongue inside. Everything was so sensitive, and the captain seemed so intent on tasting him as much as he could, and Akaashi would be lying if he said he wasn’t in love. With the _action_. It felt like seconds had passed until everything in his body snapped and Akaashi actually yelped with how strongly his orgasm crashed over him, making his thighs quiver and stomach jump, disintegrating into the mattress like the weak person he knew he was.

The contractions lasted a little longer than usual, and on any other day, he would’ve been so ecstatic about that, because a longer orgasm? Sign him up. But, not today. Today, Akaashi just wanted them to stop. He didn’t have the energy, the emotional energy really, and he just looked forward to relaxing and cuddling while he still could tonight. Bo kissed his inner thighs, trying to be supportive or affectionate or whatever. He couldn’t really determine what was going on. Akaashi felt like he could hear him speaking, but his brain wasn’t registering the words. He just nodded and smoothed through Bo’s hair and waited impatiently for his body to just teeter off the orgasmic peak already.

By the time it did, he was even more exhausted. He just wanted to sleep, curl up into a ball. He leaned up on his elbows, and his core hummed inside him with tingly warmth. God, that felt nice. He smiled, probably stupidly, and struggled to ask Bokuto to come up towards him so they could spoon.

Wiping at his mouth with a sluggish clumsy movement, Bo made his way up and plopped face-first into the pillows and groaned. “I’m so beat.”

“I wanna sleep,” Akaashi agreed, staring at his boyfriend’s body beside him with a smile. The urge to curl up into him and entangle their legs, and rub noses, and doing all these other embarrassments made Akaashi’s nerves itch. He wouldn’t entertain them until Bokuto initiated them first. He just stayed still, watching the captain complain about just about everything under the sun. 

After some more groaning, Bokuto eventually turned over, his face glowing and gazing at Akaashi with the silliest grin. “I’m happy.”

There was that heart jumping again. “Me too.”

“We didn’t fuck up!”

“That’s true, we didn’t.”

A silence descended over them, Bo still grinning. The butterflies in his gut were going wild, and he didn’t know what to do. This was so cheesy, so stupidly sappy. What was he supposed to do? Smile back? Compliment him on his performance? Initiate the cuddling himself?  
Akaashi’s fingers tapped his bare kneecaps as he tried to figure out how to fill the white noise, the post-sex territory he hadn’t quite expected to be so difficult.

However, Bo broke the silence for him. Akaashi was getting far too many easy breaks tonight. “I wish you could stay.”

Oh, fuck. That’s right.

“Me too.”

“How long do we have?”

Akaashi saw Bo’s phone by the pillows and grabbed it, checking the time. Definitely not as much time as he wished. “Half an hour.”

Bokuto whined. “That’s not fair.”

“Yeah…” Akaashi sighed, staring down at his toes, flexing them against the rumpled sheets, “And I think I want to shower real quick before I go home, too.”

Bokuto looked positively scandalized. “Why?!”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “You were just in me.”

“So?!” 

“How wet am I?” Akaashi scrunched his nose, challenging him. “It feels nasty.”

“You’re totally not nasty!”

“Thanks, but walking around all sticky is something I don’t want to do, thank you very much.” Akaashi drawled, and then looked down Bo’s body, maybe because he wanted to indulge himself while he still could but then he saw something that made him laugh. “And don’t you wanna take the condom off or something?”

“Oh shit!”

Akaashi snorted when Bo rolled off his bed and carefully, removed the condom from his more or less flaccid dick. And without tying it he plopped it in his wastebasket. Akaashi covered his mouth and tried not to be so obviously making fun of him, drawing attention to the fact that that was absolutely ridiculous. Bo gave his hands a gross look before he slipped on his underwear from the floor, or maybe a pair from the other day, Akaashi wasn’t sure, and announced that he was gonna go wash his hands because _there was so much body fluid everywhere_.

“Brushing your teeth is probably a good idea, too.”

Bo flushed and left the room.

Akaashi was alone in the bedroom, just curled up. He had to shower quick and get dressed if he wanted to make it home for his curfew. He wished he didn’t have to, wished he had been nicer to his mom, but retrospect makes everyone wiser, he supposed.

Even despite all that, he was happy. Ridiculously happy. Not that he lost his virginity. It was kinda funny, how that part didn’t really matter anymore. It was more like that he and Bo had done something together, and that it worked out pretty painlessly. There wasn’t too much awkwardness, it didn’t hurt, no snags really ruined their first time. It felt a little unreal, a little cliche even, but he didn’t care.

He deemed himself lucky. Very, very lucky.

After a beat more of introspective smiling and gratitude, he decided to get to his feet. But that was a little scary. Because when he tried to get off his bed, his legs felt like jelly, and in-between his thighs he felt massive, loose, unsteady. Holy shit. He also kinda felt like he had to pee, too. There was a lot going on in his lower body, on top of his post-orgasmic glow still making him sleepy and tingly. 

Why’d he feel so good? Why did every time he thought about that, Bo popped into his brain?

Jeez, he needed to pull himself together.

He was about to leave Bo’s bedroom completely naked (because his parents weren’t home, who cared?) when he bumped into said captain. Almost literally. Bo’s cheeks bloomed a nice pink color and he shamelessly stared at Akaashi, and it made the setter self-conscious. Which was stupid. Because they just had sex. Completely naked. Together.

“I’m going to. Shower.” Akaashi cleared his throat. 

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Go for it.” But then Bo apparently pulled himself together and interrupted, “Hold up for a sec.”

Akaashi couldn’t respond before he was embraced by the captain, and their mouths slotted together in a full-on kiss. It tasted like spearmint, and Akaashi tilted his head, wanting more, sliding his fingers around to Bo’s lower back, caressing his skin, indulging himself with a grope or two of his butt as the kiss lasted much longer than the captain probably expected it to.

When they broke apart, Akaashi’s eyelids felt heavy and the contentment had only magnified in him. “You taste good,” he mentioned quietly, still rubbing Bo’s back.

“Thanks. My mom picked out the mouthwash.”

Akaashi cracked a grin. “Interesting.”

“Mhm, she’s got good taste!”

Akaashi moved his mouth up to connect their lips again, muttering, “Let me taste it again,” because hormones gave him some bravery to be shameless. Both of them were back for round two, and this time the kiss was getting even handsier.

“You’re so sexy, you know that?” Bo praised him, dragging his knuckles down the setter’s cheek. 

“You’re not bad yourself, captain.”

“See? There it is.” Bo moaned pathetically, leaning in to kiss his ear. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Akaashi knew him too damn well. And as much as he wanted to continue this, and possibly makeout for another several hours, he had to control himself. “Can you let me shower now?”

“Can I come with you?”

As great as that sounded… “I’ll be home late, though…” Akaashi scolded, “Besides, I don’t think I could handle anything else. I’m super sensitive, still.”

Bokuto flushed even darker, “No, not like that. I mean… sort of. I just want to kiss you. Be warm in the shower and kiss. I really want that.”

Akaashi sighed, and pulled them into a satisfying hug. “Me too.”

“I wanna cuddle and sleep with you. N-not like we just did, but… y’know. Actually sleep. And wake up together.”

Akaashi didn’t need to be able to express his feelings because Bo pretty much said everything he was too nervous to admit to. With a small laugh, Akaashi squeezed Bo harder, hoping the other got his message. “I know.”

“Akaashi,” Bo mumbled as he pulled away, making eye contact, and before he even spoke Akaashi knew this would be serious, “I really, really like you.”

He wasn’t able to escape this. Not this time.

“So, so much.” Bokuto continued, positively beaming, “And I… I don’t know. I’m really happy we did this. Not just because it was fucking awesome but… It was with you. And you’re the best.”

_I feel the same exact way._

Akaashi was quiet for a while as they lingered like that. He didn’t answer because he didn’t trust himself to say anything not incriminating or too much or a whole lot of things that he wasn’t ready for. He just breathed, swayed with Bo’s body, and eventually broke away with a warm smile.

It probably dawned on Bo he wouldn’t get anything from him tonight. But that didn’t deter him, he just puffed his cheeks and pouted. “Can I come with you? Please?”

“You’re not coming in the shower with me.”

“No! Just… I don’t know. Stay in the bathroom with you. We can just talk while you do whatever.”

Akaashi gave him a strange look. A _why aren’t you dropping this_ look. 

Bo shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t want you to leave yet, okay?”

Akaashi felt his face and ears burn, and he mumbled, taking Bo’s hand and leading him towards the bathroom. “I’m not leaving just yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was extra cheesy and idealistic bc I was yelled at bc what I originally wanted to do was too anticlimactic bc "kendall u can't update after two months and not have akaashi have an orgasm"
> 
> this one's for u akaashi, buddy
> 
> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com/


	16. Day-After Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off, i'm sorry
> 
> second, this would be a gross, badly-written mess without [bejoly](http://bejoly.tumblr.com/) and her amazing beta skills. i don't know english grammar, but she definitely does.

“What are you doing home so late?”

Of course she was waiting for him by the front door. 

Or, more precisely, pretending to hide the fact that she was waiting by cleaning the entranceway of their home. Her hair was swept to the right in a low side pony, all comfortable in her lounge pants and sleep shirt, sweeping up the imaginary dirt and dust by the neat line of shoes against the vestibule wall. The dusting rag was out, too. She’d been busy alright (busy being nosy, that is) wiping down the table, the picture frames, the lightswitch. 

Of course.

“I’m late?” Akaashi immediately regretted it after he blurted the words out. There was no way he could be late - he damn well made sure he got home before curfew. But, _damn_ , did he sound guilty. And neither was it smart to combat his mother when he was already grounded. The last thing he wanted to do was dig his grave deeper (and make it much harder to see Bo after school).

Thankfully, she just laughed. “No. You’re about fifteen minutes early.” Akaashi felt his chest deflate with air. _Dodged a bullet there._ “I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

Akaashi just shrugged as he focused on taking off his shoes. It was a bit difficult to meet her gaze. Sure, her tone was harmless, but her _eyes_ \- now that was the scary part. He didn’t need to look up to know that. Akaashi wasn’t stupid. He knew his shirt was a little wrinkled, his hair still damp from the shower, his collar up a little higher, trying to hide all the fresh marks on his neck. He hadn’t put a ton of effort into refining his appearance because he figured he would have time to change before coming face-to-face with his mother. If anything, he should have expected this, to have her practically assaulting the door with her broom waiting for his arrival. Dammit.

 _I wonder if she can sense I’m not virgin anymore?_ He thought, sliding off his lace-up boot. _Of course she can, she’s my mom._

Akaashi could feel her solid gaze resting on him out of the corner of his eyes, yet he feigned ignorance, acting like he didn’t notice it. It was a bad move. He was well aware that she could read him as easily as a large-print book, but he just didn’t have any other option at this point.

Akaashi didn’t handle humiliation well. Especially not the familial kind.

“So,” she started, voice casual and friendly, thinly masking the voice of a determined, prying woman, “did you have a nice evening with Bokuto?”

Akaashi struggled to keep his face from heating up. His eyes were glued to his feet, and he inwardly cursed at how hot his ears felt. “Yeah.”

_Yes, I most certainly did._

“Tell me about it. Where’d you go?”

She knew. She knew this wasn’t a friend thing. She practically could smell the _I just had a really good date_ vibe hanging around him. His skin was probably glowing, too.

“Dinner. We went to a noodle bar downtown. And he -“ Akaashi cut himself off before he admitted a very revealing fact. That Bo _paid_. This was ridiculous. He had to stop being so on edge- he was going to accidentally spill the beans if he didn’t put a more concentrated effort on maintaining his cool.

“And?” She sounded smug. Almost. Like she was proud she could tell her own son was withholding vital information.

“And it was nice.” Akaashi supplemented lamely, standing back up, finally summoning the courage to meet her eye. “And then we walked around and got ice cream. I had fun.”

“I’m glad.” She smiled, and Akaashi swore he saw a glint of disappointment flash in her expression. But it was masked quickly: she wasn’t that petulant. She probably knew she wasn’t getting the full story, but she resigned herself to his simple answers. For now, at least. She let the broom rest against the wall, lurching forward to peck him on the cheek. She definitely could smell the shampoo that clearly wasn’t his own. But he let that anxiety-inducing thought slip from his brain. She’d mention anything that would blow his cover right out.

Thankfully, she didn’t say a word. Not now, at least.

“Do you want any tea before bed?”

“Sure.”

They moved into the kitchen and took their seats at the table after she turned the electric kettle on. She offered to make him some food, but he shook his head, even though he felt absolutely ravenous. In all truth Akaashi could’ve eaten a second dinner. Yet, he’d rather go to bed starving then fall asleep with a full stomach. There was nothing worse. Plus, he didn’t want to elongate this interaction more than necessary - more talking meant more chances to get his secret found out.

When the water was ready, Akaashi insisted on making the tea. He grabbed two sachets of sencha and let them steep in his mother’s favorite teacup set. The porcelain ones with the hand-painted yellow flowers decorating the exterior, the pair they always drank out of when they were together. 

His mother had bought the set when he was little, because she thought every mother needed some nice cups to have tea parties with her children. Even though the amount of tea parties they had together could be counted on one hand, they were used for just about everything else. For ice cream when they played royal castle (his mother obviously the queen, him the little prince), decoration, as a flowerpot when he tried to grow that mint plant in middle school for a science experiment, and of course, for drinking as well. Despite their sophisticated facade, they were used for pretty much every mundane activity under the sun.

Even so, Akaashi liked these cups as much as his mother did. And hopefully, they could distract her from asking too many questions about his evening. There was something magical about them.

Apparently, she was letting it slide. As they sat and enjoyed their tea, she hardly asked about the night. Instead, she wanted to hear about the team, about school, about the upcoming culture festival and what kind of room his homeroom was putting together (a haunted house), scheduling doctors appointments, the usual. Nothing too prying, just casual topics. It was honestly a little shocking for Akaashi, because he figured he’d be interrogated.

Still, it was nice to be reminded that he was allowed to keep his own secrets.

When they finished, she hand washed the cups and the two of them exchanged goodnights. Creaking up the stairs together, they went into their separate bedrooms.

He shucked off his clothes, meticulously turned them right-side out, and placed them into his laundry basket. Once he was in his pajamas, he crawled into bed and plugged in his phone. Akaashi wasn’t usually one to go to bed so early, but tonight he was exhausted: which was absolutely understandable. His limbs felt heavy, and a lingering, peaceful warmth remained deep in his belly. For once, he felt wholly at peace.

With a smile, for himself, for Bokuto, for all the goodness that had crept into the current events of his life, he buried himself into the covers and closed his eyes.

 _Things are different. And that’s okay._

——— 

Yes, things were different, but what Akaashi _didn’t_ expect to be different was how he felt when he saw Bokuto the next day.

Akaashi hadn’t seen or spoken to the captain since after he left his house in a hurry to make it home for curfew. That was hardly any time at all. It’d been barely twelve hours since they were together - they’d gone much longer without any contact before. So seeing him at school shouldn’t have been special.

Ha. 

Akaashi hadn’t even thought about this. The only thing that changed about their situation was that they had had sex. Which, in hindsight, really wasn’t such a huge deal, because A) they’d done comparably intimate things with one another before and B) sex actually wasn’t such a life changing thing. Yeah, it was pretty good (it _felt_ pretty damn good), but it wasn’t deserving of the high pedestal Akaashi had admittedly put it on. It was just another thing, and the two of them did it together. It was amazing they finally took that step. But that was really it. Things were different, of course, but not _that_ different.

Apparently Akaashi underestimated himself.

He was on his way to the bathroom when he saw him. Bokuto was with another boy, most likely a classmate of his, both of them carrying a stack of textbooks as they turned the corner, chatting away animatedly about something. When he locked eyes with Bokuto in the hallway, Akaashi felt like he’d been _electrocuted_. 

_What the hell?_ His heart was fluttering. _Fluttering_. Pleasant heat washed through him, and out of nowhere, he became incredibly happy in the most giddy way. It was overwhelming. He just wanted to smile, to run up to Bo and get swallowed up in one of his bear hugs, to talk to him, to kiss him. It was such an instinctive need, and it was so strong. Washing over him and making his fingers itch. Begging him to act, to go indulge in all those desires. Akaashi never really saw himself as a clingy, possessive person that acted on impulse, but right now? He definitely was.

It kind of grossed him out.

This was completely a hormonal thing, he was certain of it. But, really, who cared what it was? If Bokuto knew that just _looking_ at him made him feel so strongly, he’d never hear the end of it. Akaashi was embarrassed beyond belief with himself, and he’d probably die if Bokuto found out about this.

He’d never let him know, that was for sure.

 _Oh shit_ , he’d been staring. Akaashi tried to say something, but everything that was threatening to jump off the tip of his tongue was too dangerous.

So, Bokuto was the first to say hi. There was a certain uncomfortableness to his tone, his posture a bit off. But Akaashi didn’t take it to heart. _He_ was the one acting weird. Bokuto most likely was just reacting to the vibe that Akaashi was creating. Dammit.

“Carrying those for your homeroom teacher?” Akaashi asked lamely.

“Yeah.” Bokuto grinned, and nodded his head at his companion, who smiled awkwardly. “Sensei wanted two strong boys to lug all the Japanese History books to the storage closet.”

“I see.”

The other guy definitely could feel the tension between them, so palpable and unnecessary. He didn’t know where to look, peering between the two volleyball players, knowing he was witnessing some sort of story but unable to read the words. Akaashi asked himself why he had to constantly suffer.

“So, um.” Bokuto interrupted his train of thought. “See you at practice.” 

Akaashi just nodded, a little dejected that this meeting was cut so short, but what did he expect? He didn’t want to get in trouble - they couldn’t just stay in the hallway and talk forever.

(Or makeout.)

“Later.” Akaashi gave one last look before he ventured past them, towards the bathroom, his original destination. He hated how he physically couldn’t prevent himself from checking back over his shoulder, just to watch Bokuto go. 

But he felt better when Bo did the same thing. The captain winked at him and the butterflies were back.

———

_> >Everything is going really well._

From the whirlwind of last night and all silly feelings he’d been battling today, Akaashi had forgotten to update Kenma about the “Bokuto Situation”. The blonde was his only confidante, so he felt like he shouldn’t waste that opportunity. Talking about this kind of stuff, regardless of the fact that Akaashi felt it was unnecessary to do so, it actually was beneficial. People vented, bounced ideas off of one another for a reason. It was reassurance: working out your life with a trusted friend was pretty much like therapy. And Kenma, as unlikely as he seemed, actually fit that role pretty well.

It’s because he knew how to listen. Unlike _some_ people.

Akaashi’s phone vibrated immediately with a response. He had placed it inside his sports locker, and the sound was magnified on the metal, audible over the chatter of the team changing. He gave an apologetic shrug to the teammates who looked up at the noise, more for the courtesy of it than anything else, before checking his phone.

_> >good. glad _

Everything felt right in the world.

At least, _his_ world. Kenma’s world definitely hadn’t achieved the equilibrium that his had recently. Akaashi knew Kenma wanted that - that balance. That almost impossible series of events that suddenly put everything he desired and wished to be true into reality. Akaashi wasn’t nearly as patient or deserving as the blonde, and yet, it’d happened to him. He got everything he wanted: supportive friends, a good mom, a boyfriend that was too good to him. He’d had no complaints with his current situation. Kenma deserved to have that, too.

Kenma deserved to have Kuroo in the ways he wanted. (And Akaashi had a hunch Kuroo wanted him in the same way, too.) But those two were stubborn, they knew each other too well… things wouldn’t just happen like they had for him and Bokuto.

Kuroo and Kenma needed to put in a little effort.

_> >Now it’s time to work on your life._

Kenma didn’t answer back as quickly as before. While waiting, the setter slipped into his practice clothes. Still no answer. 

Akaashi was in mid-swig of his water when he felt an arm wrap around his waist.

“Hi.”

He almost choked on said water, sending some of it through his nose, burning like fire. Akaashi coughed into his elbow, and Bokuto yelped, jumping away from him. “Dude, I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine.” Akaashi wiped his nose with his towel. _Fuck_ , why was he so good at embarrassing himself lately? All the heat in his body seemed to pool into his face, and he did his best to stare down at his sneakers. Lately, he was spending way too much time looking at the floor. “I’m okay.”

“I didn’t mean to try to kill you.” Bokuto clasped his hands and bowed his head in guilty forgiveness. Akaashi just rolled his eyes. That seemed to placate the captain a little too well. His arm was back around Akaashi’s shoulder in no time.

“So,” Bo said once he recovered, a silly little grin on his face. “How are you?”

This was painful.

“Good.” 

Couldn’t they just text about what happened last night? It would’ve been so much easier to discuss all this in a less roundabout way, about how their night had gone, about all that… stuff. All this beating around the bush right now was agonizing.

“Me too!” Out of nowhere, it was like Bo’s cells had been replaced with sunshine. “I’m absolutely, positively _fantastic_.”

And then that idiot winked at him. Akaashi wanted to gag.

“I had fun last night,” Bo continued at a lower volume, a much more suggestive volume, the hand on his back securing against the base of his spine. “I hope you had fun, too.”

Akaashi just nodded quietly, smiling. As much as he hated this… he actually didn’t.

“If you ever wanted, y’know,” Bokuto ventured, his own bright face turning a little flushed, which was _so cute on him_ , “to _have fun again_ , I mean…”

Akaashi couldn’t help himself. He snorted.

“H-hey!!”

“You sound ridiculous.” Akaashi responded, lightly punching Bokuto in the side. “I won’t do anything if you don’t ask me properly.”

That seemed to get Bo to get his shit together. Still embarrassed, he quickly checked to see if any of the team was paying attention, and then leaned into Akaashi’s ear and whispered, “ _We should have sex again. Soon._ ”

There it was.

“Okay.” Akaashi cracked a smile.

“Tonight?” Bo asked as a whisper, but it sounded more like he was begging. “After practice?”

As much as he wanted to, he had to decline. “Doctor’s appointment. Sorry.”

All that sunshine in the captain’s body seemed to dim. “Oh…”

“Sorry.”

“…Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Akaashi could tell that still wasn’t settling the captain for whatever reason. Well… he was his _boyfriend_ , after all. He could be a little more transparent. “I’m getting hormones.”

Bo blinked. “Oh. Cool.” He clearly didn’t really know what that meant, but he seemed to understand the gist of it. “Are you excited?”

“Yes and no.” Akaashi shrugged. He didn’t really feel like getting into this conversation right now. Nor did he feel like answering all the questions bubbling up in Bo’s head. But he felt like he should try. “It’s going to be annoying but…”

“But it’s something you want to do?”

Akaashi smiled, a little surprised that out of everything, he was asked that. “Yeah.” He wished he could hug him right now.

“Tell me about it after.” 

“Okay.”

Bo leaned in and hugged him, and Akaashi turned as red as the Nekoma jerseys. This was everything he’d wanted, but _oh my god_. Why he suddenly felt emotional was beyond him - he’d sort that out later. He hugged Bo back briefly before disengaging from the embrace.

“Thanks.” Akaashi sucked in a breath, trying to look normal.

He was so thankful that his phone vibrated then.

_And thank you, Kenma._

He checked the message quickly, trying not to look like he was hiding.

_> >no thx_

Akaashi let out a little laugh and started to reply back, but something stopped him. Bokuto. He could feel the intensity radiating off him.

Bokuto was so curious, so desperately curious to know what had made him giggle. He was trying to inconspicuously read the text on his phone, and Akaashi felt a bit of warning signal flash through his chest. Oh no. He yanked his phone to his chest, keeping the screen protected from view. 

Kenma trusted him with his secrets. Telling Bokuto was like telling the local news.

The captain got the message, and shrunk down, clearly dejected for being denied. Akaashi just clicked his tongue, locking his phone and placing it in his gym bag before shutting the locker. 

“Who’re you texting?” Bo pouted, attempting to hang off Akaashi’s body, but the setter was having none of that. “I bet Kuroo’s talking shit about me or something.”

“You’re not that off.” Teasing Bo was his favorite activity, because it was just too easy. Still, as fun as it was, he had to be serious for a second. Akaashi tried his best to look resolute. “Also, I don’t try to read _your_ messages.”

That made the captain color. “I know, but…”

“Are you jealous?”

Bokuto didn’t need to answer to know Akaashi hit the nail on the head.

“You are.” Akaashi didn’t know why this was so shocking to him. Bokuto was an incredibly jealous person, but it never dawned on him that this would happen in their relationship. Like this. Huh. They still had a lot to learn, and balance out.

“Sorry.” Bokuto offered pathetically, keeping his physical distance.

“It’s fine, but…” Was it fine? Akaashi didn’t know. He was winging this as he went. “You know that I… uh… I would never…”

Bo leaned in a little.

Akaashi swallowed and said much quieter. “I like you, right?”

A little bit of that sunshine came back, peeking through the clouds.

“I like you a lot. We’re dating.” Akaashi continued. Even though it was hard to say, it was the truth. “And I wouldn’t cheat on you -“

“Woah!” Akaashi almost jumped out of his skin when Bokuto gasped. “Who said anything about me thinking you were cheating?”

“What?” Wasn’t this what this was all about?

“Dude, I know that.” Bo shook his head. “I _know._ ”

“So, why…?”

“I still want to be your best friend, too.”

Oh dear god. Those butterflies were back yet again. Second time today. And they’d seem to have multiplied by quite a bit.

Akaashi felt like a tool when he choked, “You already are.”

Then before he could blink he was swept up into a big hug, scooped up into the air and twirled around while Bokuto sang out a happy little song. _I’m Akaashi’s best friend~!_

“Don’t kill him.” Sarukui scolded from across the room, slipping his head through his shirt. “We need him, Captain.”

Bokuto told him he knew as much, but refused to set the setter down. Akaashi tried to look unperturbed. Bo had done this to him more times than he could count, but this was the first time he’d done this since all this _stuff_ started happening. Now, he just felt awkward, like he was in the spotlight. Everything these days was taking on a new dimension of meaning.

“Put me down,” Akaashi mumbled.

“Sorry, sorry!” Bo ruffled his hair after he set him down. “I just love ya so much.”

Akaashi hated how happy that made him.

Sarukui just _tsked_ and left the two to go into the gym. Akaashi took his time straightening out his clothes, and attempted to look mad. He probably looked nothing close to that, but still. The effect was still there.

Sure, they still had some boundaries, some things to talk about. That was for certain. But it wasn’t anything too terrible, too deal breaking.

Besides, Akaashi could fight back too.

“I was going to invite you over tomorrow, but now I changed my mind.”

Bokuto gasped, and turned as white as their own uniforms. Now that was more fitting. “ _No you didn’t._ ”

“Yes, I did.”

Bokuto whimpered.

“Apologize, Koutaro.”

Bokuto sucked in a breath, and stared down at Akaashi like he was some kind of monster. That made Akaashi feel kinda good.

_I can play along, too._

“Sorry,” Bo breathed, inching closer now that he had finally realized they were alone in the clubroom.

“You’re forgiven.” He gave up far too easily, but who cared? Akaashi felt it was okay to step closer now, and lean up on his tiptoes to kiss the captain on the mouth like he’d been wanting to all day. They stayed like that for a while, just slowly refamiliarizing themselves with each other’s lips, their hair, their necks. Palms tracing lines, tendons in arms, bones, muscles. It was nice. Not too much, not too little. Just enough. 

When they parted, Akaashi ducked his head and leaned his forehead against Bokuto’s warm chest, humming contentedly when Bo wrapped his arms protectively around his back.

It was a few moments of quiet breathing before Akaashi said into his chest, words muffled in his shirt, “Come over for dinner tomorrow.”

“I sure will.” Bokuto said, and Akaashi loved hearing the rumble of his words inside his chest. It was so intimate.

“Great.”

Bokuto rubbed up his spine for a beat before saying, “I’ll bring over some condoms, too. So we can do it again.”

“Please don’t ruin this.” Akaashi groaned, fisting his hands in Bokuto’s tee.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

With a weary sigh, Akaashi reluctantly added, “But yeah. Bring them.”

Bo cheered, and Akaashi wanted to sink into the floor. Into a puddle of his own messy, yet so overwhelmingly grateful and loving emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kick my ass at bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


	17. Almost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy valentine’s day ;(

Come over for dinner? Pfft, _please_.

It was such a dumb way to phrase the invitation. At this point, Akaashi should have just discarded all attempts at euphemizing their situation. All their shared winks, speaking in code. It was so unnecessary. 

Both of them knew the main reason why Bo was _coming_ over after school, anyway. No need to be so coy about it.

“Dude,” Bokuto grunted, “I think you should keep your voice down.”

“I’m trying — !” Akaashi retorted in a humiliating whimper.

And _please_ , it wasn’t like either of them had been subtle on the whole _condom_ thing yesterday, either.

Lights dimmed and facedown in the pillows of his own bed was exactly how Akaashi had expected to spend the better half of the evening. It was something he’d been daydreaming about for a while. Even before all this _stuff_ shhhs kept hissing from between the captain’s clenched teeth, punctuating the even more hurried mattress squeaks and skin slaps. Still, it wasn’t like Bo was letting up on his thrusts. Oh no, not in a million years. Bokuto was _slamming_ into him. Awkwardly, sure, but still slamming. Literally churning Akaashi’s insides around like he was mixing cake batter or something. Why they hadn’t fucked in this position the other night was an utter mystery to the setter. This was the good stuff — Bokuto fucking against every good part inside him. Every. Single. Part. Akaashi was going to prioritize the two of them getting intimate like more often, because _shit_ he wasn’t aware his body was capable of feeling such pleasure .

If there _was_ a next time, if any. With all his keening moans and desperate groveling, even blanketed beneath the soft rock music they agreed to play, Akaashi definitely was on the right track to getting caught. And getting grounded, for that matter...

“Keiji…” Bokuto whimpered into the small of his back, derailing his barely coherent train of thought, “Shhhh, _please_.”

_Then don’t shove your dick into me so hard_.

Ha. As if Akaashi would really tell him to slow down. The sensations were good. Way too good — better than the other night, admittedly. Akaashi was thoroughly enjoying having difficulties steadying his breath, his nerves getting fried from each harsh press into all the sensitive, wet spots inside of him. Basically eviscerating him as Akaashi fingered his own clit, biting his abused pillowcase to keep himself from actually screaming.

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t planning to ask Bo to scale back. If anything he could demand him to go _harder_ so he’d finish faster. 

Yeah, that’s it. The faster, the better. Akaashi smiled through a gasp, his cunt throbbing at the possibly of more.

But the struggle to actually formulate words without yelling, to actually tell Bo what he wanted… Now, that was a challenge, one that Akaashi was determined to meet. But it was far more complicated than it sounded.

The first thing to get him to focus, to maybe stop the mewling would be to quit it on his clit with his own fingers. With enormous reluctance, Akaashi removed his hand out from between his thighs and shifted his arms instead so he could brace himself on his forearms. Peeling his face away from his pillow (which was grotesquely covered in his own drool), he peered up at and behind Bokuto. 

Just having his flushed face come into view, his scrunched features and shut eyes, feel the rush of his heaving breath against his own bare back… it was more than hot. Akaashi swallowed a moan and attempted to reign in his self control, keep his hand from shooting back down to paw at his very swollen and very need clit. _You got this._

“Can you — harder?”

His voice was too hollow, too quiet. Bokuto couldn’t hear it over his own emphatic panting. Again, Akaashi asked louder, trying to get Bokuto’s attention. 

_Please, don’t make me beg_.

Unfortunately, Bo wasn’t listening. He was in his own little world.

_Fuck_ , Akaashi flushed. He’d have to beg.

Akaashi sucked in a massive breath and held it. Then at the right moment he rolled his hips back, meeting the captain’s forceful next thrust head on. A hot spark, like an overheated electrical cord, burned through Akaashi’s insides. He coughed out his full lungs and cried out into the air, _loud_ , and fell face-first back into the pillows, gasping against the fabric, no oxygen making it into his bloodstream, reeling because _oh my god oh my god oh my god Bo fuck me like that right there_.

Well, not the original begging he planned to do, but that worked, too.

“You’re so fucking filthy,” Bo whispered into his shoulder blades, his body ploughing forward harder against their better judgement. Forward and forward still. Bokuto even took it farther and hiked Akaashi’s hips up higher, slamming downward now at an even steeper angle. Everything felt so hot. Incinerating — Akaashi’s guts were being scorched. Every thrust came with the heat, and the tail end came with a cloud-like feeling, a lightness, making his intestines shudder with a pleasantness that made it all the more _yes_ when that heat tore through him again.

Akaashi was positive he was pulling a muscle somewhere in there. Every part of his body felt taut: his toes, his jaw, his shoulders, his stomach. This was how sex should always be, he thought with a pleasured giggle to himself — harsh and quick and so, so _satisfying_.

“Keiji.” Bo dipped low and kissed along his sweltering skin, his lips leaving more fire trailing along their path. “Should I stop?”

Was Bokuto… taunting him?

Oh fucking _god_ that was sexy.

And for some illogical, blessed reason, Akaashi suddenly had his coherence back. “Not until you finish me off, _captain_.”

Bokuto groaned against his skin in the lewdest way, his hips stuttering into Akaashi’s messy heat, a slip in his merciless rhythm. A moment of weakness that just about killed Akaashi because _he made Bo fall apart like that._ A beat more, and then Bokuto rasped a competitive growl into his shoulder. “Oh, I’ll _finish_ you off.”

The captain’s calloused hand dragged under his inner thigh, the heel of his palm dragging along what he could of his vulva, his thick, bulky fingers coated in that viscous slick, and pressed sweetly all over his clit. Picking exactly up where Akaashi had left off. Bokuto pressed circles with his two fingers into the swollen nub and murmured something nasty into the middle of Akaashi’s shoulder blades. His hips immediately resumed their rhythm, but this time it was absolutely _merciless_.

Akaashi sucked in a new breath against his rumpled bedsheets, but it still sounded far too loud.

“Feels good?” Bokuto laughed, his breathless words ghosting over the sweat rivulets cascading down his flesh. The slick sounds were inaudible over the fucking noises, the music, the blood throbbing in Akaashi’s skull. He didn’t care. It felt incredible. Yeah, he couldn’t breathe, he was lightheaded from suffocating himself in the pillow, but… but _oh god Bo was ruining his life in the best way possible._

“ _My parents can hear us. There’s no way they can’t hear us._.”

A scrape over his back made Akaashi gasp. Teeth? Was Bokuto _biting_ him?

“You mean,” the captain growled, “They can hear _you_?”

Ruining his life, all right.

Tremors wracked his thighs, and Akaashi’s body was sinking downward, losing the integrity in his posture. He could feel strain, pleasure everywhere. He was gonna come. Bokuto was making him come, in his own bed, with his big hands and his thick cock, his surprisingly taunting voice, the sexy remnants of his cologne lingering on his skin…

Akaashi couldn’t breathe. For real. He was having trouble distinguishing the sensations from each other. Everything ached and ached more and he was seeing spots even though he couldn’t see anything and Akaashi ripped his teeth into the pillow and _choked_. 

Bokuto choked too because the way Akaashi’s cunt shuddered around him must have been beyond incredible. Akaashi actually felt overwhelmed, like he needed a minute before he could fully deal with his climax. But that wasn’t a liberty he had. Orgasms weren’t supposed to hurt, right…? But this one kinda did, in a good way but still… 

Akaashi gritted his teeth and endured it, loving it but simultaneously wanting it to stop. Bokuto rode with it, and continued to fuck forward into his mess of a body, using and using and using him. 

“Yeah, Keiji, _yeah_.” Bokuto garbled out his words between his thrusts, seemingly going harder with every movement. Akaashi sobbed into the pillow and tried to cant his body away from getting the brunt of it all. He couldn’t help it — this hurt. After the orgasm subsided, quick yet intense, the pain remained. Precise, sharp pain, right into his very core. Like a second pulse that was trying to kill him.

Bo had to be close. Right? Akaashi needed him to be. Desperately.

If he was, Bokuto was taking forever to get there. And the thrusts were getting rougher and _ow_. This was getting to be too much. Overwhelming, even. And Akaashi wanted it to stop.

Yet he didn’t want to say anything. Because he didn’t want to be a buzzkill — he finished and Bokuto didn’t, after all. But he also didn’t like the idea of sitting through another few minutes of _ouch_ , though. He didn’t even know if he could without crying. Everything down there was raw, so sensitive, and shit, there were definitely tears welling up in his eyes. 

Another reason why he was thankful for the positioning, but this one was something he didn’t think he’d ever have to be concerned about.

He had to say something, though... He deserved to enjoy sex just as much as Bokuto did. “Hey —” 

“Ugh.” And then Bokuto grunted into his shoulder and shuddered above him for a few seconds as he hit his peak. _Finally_. After the worst of it, Bokuto collapsed, panting and rolling beside Akaashi’s tense, curled-into-itself body. Bokuto pumped his fists into the air and whistled. “Woah, dude. Just. _Woah_.”

Akaashi stayed silent. Not knowing how to respond, he just curled further into his own ball and rolled to the side that was facing away from Bokuto’s face. Instead, he stared at his window, at the dregs of light clinging to what was left of the evening, at the distant plane buzzing above through the tangerine clouds, and the distant skyscrapers towering above the millions of people heading off to their millions of homes. Akaashi drew the blanket over himself. He needed a second to gather his thoughts, figure out the best way to breech the subject to Bo without making him feel like he was being attacked, criticized. Told that he was bad at sex. Because he wasn’t, it was just — And well, Akaashi also had to stop himself from looking like a total cry baby. But that was a different story entirely. Much better said than done.

Bokuto scooted closer to Akaashi’s warm, spent self and nestled into the crook where his shoulder met torso. His breath was still labored, and Bokuto decided to kiss breathless giggles into the setter’s flesh. Bo’s strong arms curled around Akaashi’s waist and quietly, beneath the ending notes of the song and a lone car zipping past them on the streets outside, he told Akaashi he was beautiful.

Akaashi was horrified when he actually began to feel the tears hotly leaking out of him. He was crying. Really sniveling.

And Bo noticed immediately, because he suddenly found himself kissing a shaking neck, and that’s when the hiccupping and gasping started. Next came Akaashi failing to cover his mouth to keep everything discreet but it was absolutely useless.

“Shit.” Bokuto sounded terrified. He was sitting up now, and hand gingerly touched Akaashi’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

It was impossible to steady his breath: every time he tried, Akaashi just felt more starved for air. This was beyond embarrassing. And Bokuto’s prying, concerned eyes were making him cry harder. Akaashi buried his face into the pillow again, hiding from the one person he never, ever wanted to.

“Keiji.” _Oh no, don’t say my name so pathetically._ “Did I fuck up? Is it something else? Just tell me. I wanna help you.”

Akaashi shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

Bokuto’s fingers rubbed his shoulder and back softly, and his voice cracked as he said, “I love you, though.”

How where things suddenly so bad? Akaashi wiped his puffy, wet eyes and shifted to look upward at Bokuto. Breathing was hard, too hard. But he needed to do it. He had to. Swallowing, he croaked out, “I’m sorry.”

It was Bokuto’s turn to shake his head gently. “Dude, why are you apologizing?”

Akaashi wiped his eyes, bit his bruised, bottom lip. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want to, um, talk about it?”

_Yes_. “No.”

“Can we?” Bokuto pleaded, his hand on Akaashi’s shoulder holding him a little firmer. “I’m really confused and I don’t know what’s going on and you’re crying, you’re _crying_ , and I’ve never seen you do that and I don’t know if it’s because of something I did or what.” Bokuto suddenly tore his eyes away from his boyfriend and glued them to the window. “I don’t care that maybe that’s selfish. I just want you to be okay.”

Akaashi didn’t know it was possible to feel his heart actually break. But there was a first time for everything.   
He really didn’t know why he was crying in the first place. It wasn’t just physical pain. Yeah, it still kind of hurt, his insides stung, and yes the tears originally sprang up because of how agonizing it was, but right now, he was _sobbing_. Albeit lightly, but still, sobbing. After sex. This was beyond terrible, and Bo was just sitting there helpless, so scared and even more confused. And Bokuto was the one apologizing for being selfish? _Fuck_.

Wait… Akaashi clenched his fingers into the blanket. Was this... guilt?

Akaashi hated this. He needed to do something.

“It hurt.” 

There really wasn’t much more he could say without falling even deeper into a new round of tears. Akaashi pawed at his eyes and took a slow, deliberate inhale. “That’s it.”

Bokuto didn’t look placated. That bare-bones explanation provided him zero closure. Those four words simply had the captain’s face freezing in place. He looked like he was about to puke. “I hurt you that badly...?”

“No.” Akaashi swallowed, trying to smile, a different reassurance tactic. “It hurt, but I don’t know why —”

Bokuto’s hand traveled down Akaashi’s shoulder, to his bicep, and then he suddenly gasped. 

“You’re bleeding.” Bokuto whispered. Now, he looked sick.

Akaashi hadn’t even noticed the bit of gooey, darkish blood streaked over his inner thighs, not to mention all over the condom. It wasn’t a lot by a long shot, but it was still there. It was still blood.

Bokuto covered his mouth and didn’t say a word.

“I’m fine!” Akaashi sat up with a wince, and touched Bo’s bare upper thigh. “Really. A little blood is normal.” _I think_.. Akaashi himself was starting to feel sick, and this situation was distorting into something bigger, more destructive than it really was. Akaashi wasn’t even fully sure why he’d been crying in the first place, but he did know it was hurting Bokuto, it was hurting him, and something as silly-easy as fooling around after school shouldn’t have brought either of them to tears. 

But it was, and that had to be remedied immediately.

“I’m not mad. Or dying.” Akaashi’s voice quivered as he tried to stay strong. He moved to hold Bo’s wrist, looking down and their very naked, sweaty bodies so awkwardly and uncomfortably close. Self-consciousness was starting to bubble up inside his guts, but now wasn’t the time to feel like garbage about himself. He needed to bridge this misunderstanding, this issue, and make sure neither of them were giving each other the silent treatment during dinner tonight — _Shit, shit, shit._ He forgot about dinner. Akaashi groaned, and squeezed Bokuto’s wrist again, scrambling for a solution. “It’s my fault. I should’ve said you were hurting me.”

“How is that _your_ fault?” Bokuto had this weepy look in his eyes, and Akaashi felt that look like a punch to the gut. “I hurt you.”

“But I’m okay.”

“You’re bleeding!” Bo’s voice cracked, and everything went downhill.

“I’m fine.” Akaashi was starting to get frustrated. “Next time I’ll say something if I don’t like it.”

“Why didn’t you?” Bokuto immediately regretted the way his words pointed at him like knives, attempting to make Akaashi feel guilty about this. That hurt more than any of the physical pain. 

Akaashi just bit the inside of his cheek and looked up at the bare whiteness of the ceiling, a complete loss for a justifiable reason. “I don’t know.”

With no coordination, Bokuto got off the bed and started putting himself together, cleaning himself off and throwing on his clothes. Akaashi took a deep breath and tried to tell himself that Bokuto didn’t hate him. That he was just scared. Angry in the moment, and not forever.

He wasn’t doing a great job of convincing himself, though.

But Bokuto wasn’t leaving. Not going through his bedroom door nor slamming it shut. He just simply sat on the edge of Akaashi’s bed and held his face in his hands. It wasn’t ideal, but it was something they could both work with. You can’t make amends with a ghost. “How do I make this better?”

Akaashi stayed silent as he tugged the blanket to cover his lower half. He needed to do laundry, anyway. What was a little more blood and body fluids going to hurt? He didn’t really know how to answer Bokuto’s question. To be honest, he wasn’t really sure if there was a problem beyond what had happened. Or maybe there was and they were just blind to it now? Conjecture would only hurt them both more, it wouldn’t make progress. Akaashi found comfort in provable facts, so he clung to those as his lifeline. 

Akaashi wasn’t mad at anyone but himself, and Bokuto seemed to be in the same boat. The only real obstacle, in Akaashi’s mind, was getting over their wounded pride. That was hard for a lot of reasons. Maybe the hardest aspect was that this — their relationship, this intimacy, was still so new and full of unknowns. How did they both really feel? How much were they willing to sacrifice for this? 

_Stop. What ifs will only make this worse. Focus._

And yet, Akaashi’s chest was aching too much to dwell on this alone. “I love you, too.” 

It wasn’t an answer to Bo’s plea for help. But it was something. Something tangible.

The fact that Bo turned around and actually smiled at him afterwards was a step. So was him returning into bed, getting under the covers, pulling Akaashi’s smaller, naked frame close to his, holding one another beneath the blankets in silence. A thick silence — not a suffocating one, but one that almost felt like a familiar embrace.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When ya girl don’t update for literal years and she gives you this on a holiday celebrating love
> 
> i'm sorry
> 
> bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


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